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TH3 OATH 03 llEVENGB. 





NAPOLEON IN O E R M A N Y 


1 


NAPOLEON 

> 



AND THE 

QUEEN OF PRUSSIA. 


AN HISTORICAL NOVEL. 


BY 


L. MtiHLBACH, 




AUTHOR OF “marie ANTOINETTE,” “JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT,” “FREDERICK THE GREAT 
AND HIS FAMILY,” “BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI,” ETC., ETC. 








TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN, BY 

F. JORDAN. 


COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. 


•» '> i 




■) ♦ V > 

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NEW YORK; 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 

448 & 44B BROADWAY. 

1868. 


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Enteeed, according to Act of Congress, in -the year 1867, by 
D. APPLETON & CO., 

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District cf New T ork. 


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CONTESTS 




BOOK 1. 

PAGB 


Chap. I.— Ferdinand von Scliill 
n. — The German Song, . 
in.— The Oath of Vengeance, 
rv.— In Berlin, .... 

V. — Quiet is the Citizen’s First Duty, 

VI. — The Faithful People of Stettin, 

V 11. —The Queen’s Flight, 

Vin.— Napoleon in Potsdam, 

IX. — Sans-Souci, 

X.— Napoleon’s Entry into Berlin, 

XI. — Napoleon and Talleyrand, 

XII. — The Princess von Hatzfeid, . 

Xni. — The Suppliant Princes, . 

XIV. — Triumph and Defeat, 

XV. — The Victoria of Brandenburg Gate, 


1 

5 

9 

16 

19 

22 

26 

31 

34 

40 

45 

50 

55 

69 

64 


Chap. XXXIH. — Johannes von MhHer, « . 

XXXTV.- The Call, . 

XXXV.— Financial Calamities, . . 

XXXVI.— Prince WiUiam, . , . 

XXXVn. — The Genius of Prussia, . 

XXXVni.— A Family Dinner, . , , 


BOOK V. 

XXXIX.— French Erfurt, . 

XL. — The Conspirators, . 

XLI. — The Festivities of Erfurt and Wei- 
mar, .... 
XLn.— Napoleon and Goethe, . , 

XUn.— The Chase and the Assassins, 


BOOK II. 


XVI. — The Treaty of Charlottenhurg, . 67 

XVII. — The Secret Council of State, . 70 

XV 111.— Baron von Stein, ... 74 

XIX. — The Queen at the Peasant’s Cottage, 78 

XX. — Count Piickler, . . .84 

XXI.— The Patriot’s Death, . . 88 

XXn.— Peace Negotiations, . . .92 

XXin.— The Slanderous Articles, . 95 

XXIV. — The Justification, . . 99 

XXV. — Countess Mary Walewska, . 105 

XXVI.— The Dantzic Chocolate . . 110 


BOOK III. 


BOOK VI. 

XLIV.— The War with Austria, 
XLV. — Josephine’s Farewell, 
XLVT.- Ferdinand von Schill, . 
XLVn.— Schill takes the Field, 
XLVin.— Schill’s Death, . 

XLIX. — The Parade at SchOnbmnn, 
L.— Napoleon at SchOnbrunn, 
LI.— Frederick Staps, . . 

Ln. — ^An Execution, , . 


Xxv 11.— Napoleon and Alexander, . 114 

XXVm.— Queen Louisa, . . .119 

XXIX.— Bad Tidings, . . .122 

XXX. — Queen Louisa and Napoleon, . 126 


BOOK IT. 

XXXI.— Baron von Stein, . . 183 

XXXI L— The Patriot, . . . 136 


BOOK YII. 

LITT.— Homeward Bound, 

LIV.— The Emperor Francis and Metter- 
. nich, . . . . , 

LV.— The Archduchess Maria Louisa, 
LVT.— The Queen’s Birthday, . 

LVIL— Louisa’s Death, 




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V' 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 




BOOK I. 


CHAPTER I. 

FERDINAND VON SCHILL. 

Profound silence reigned in the valleys and 
gorges of Jena and Auerstadt. The battles were 
over. The victorious French had inarched to 
J ena to repose for a few days, while the defeated 
Prussians had fled to Weimar, or were wandering 
across the fields and in the mountains, anxiously 
seeking for inaccessible places where they might 
conceal their presence from the pursuing enemy. 

A panic had seized the whole army. All pres- 
ence of mind and sense of honor seemed to be 

f 

lost. Every one thought only of saving his life, 
and of escaping from the conquering arms of the 
invincible French. Here and there, it is true, of- 
ficers succeeded by supplications and remon- 
strances in stopping the fugitives, and in forming 
them into small detachments, with which the 
commanders attempted to join the defeated and 
retreating main force. 

But where was this main army ? Whither had 
the Prince of Hohenlohe directed his vanquished 
troops ? Neither the officers nor the soldiers 
knew. They marched along the high-roads, not 
knowing whither to direct their steps. But as 
soon as their restless eyes seemed to discern 
French soldiers at a distance, the Prussians took 
to their heels, throwing their muskets away to re- 
lieve their flight, and surrendering at discretion 
when there was no prospect of escape. In one 
instance a troop of one hundred Prussians sur- 
rendered to four French dragoons, who conducted 
their prisoners to headquarters ; and once a large 
detachment hailed in a loud voice a few mounted 
grenadiers, who intended perhaps to escape from 
their superior force, and gave the latter to under- 
stand, by signals and laying down their arms, that 
1 


they only wished to surrender and deliver them- 
selves to the French. 

The Prussians had reached Jena and Auerstadt 
confident of victory, and now had left the battle- 
field to carry the terrible tidings of their defeat, 
like a host of ominously croaking ravens, through- 
out Germany. 

The battle-field, on which a few hours previous- 
ly Death had walked in a triumphant procession, 
and felled thousands and thousands of bleeding 
victims to the ground, was now entirely deserted. 
Night had thrown its pall over the horrors of this 
Calvary of Prussian glory: the howling storm 
alone sang a requiem to the unfortunate soldiers, 
who, with open wounds and features distorted 
with pain, lay in endless rows on the blood-stained 
ground. 

At length the night of horror is over — the storm 
dies away — the thick veil of darkness is rent 
asunder, and the sun of a new day rises pale and 
sad ; pale and sad he illuminates the battle-field, 
reeking with the blood of so many thousands. 

What a spectacle ! How many mutilated 
corpses lie prostrate on the ground with their di- 
lated eyes staring at the sky — and among them, 
the happy, the enviable ! how many living, groan- 
ing, bleeding men, writhing with pain, unable to 
raise their mutilated bodies from the gory bed of 
torture and death ! 

The sun discloses the terrible picture hidden by 
the pall of night ; it illuminates the faces of the 
stark dead, but awakens the living and suffering, 
the wounded and bleeding, from their benumbed 
slumber, and recalls them to consciousness and 
the dreadful knowledge of their wretched exist- 
ence. 

With consciousness return groans and wails ; 
and the dreadful conviction of their wretched ex- 


2 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


istence opens their lips, and wrings from them 
shrieks of pain and despair. 

How enviable and blissful sleep the dead whose 
wounds bleed and ache no longer ! How wretched 
and pitiable are the living as they lie on the 
ground, tortured by the wounds which the howl- 
ing night wind has dried so that they bleed no 
more ! Those poor deserted ones in the valley 
and on the hills the sun has awakened, and the 
air resounds with their moans and cries and de- 
spairing groans, and heart-rending entreaties for 
relief. But no relief comes to them ; no cheer- 
ful voice replies to their wails. Hundreds, per- 
haps thousands, had been placed in the ambu- 
lances, and, during the sudden panic, the surgeons 
had left the battle-field with them. But hundreds, 
nay thousands, remained behind, and with no one 
to succor them ! 

From among the crowds of wounded and dead 
lying on the battle-field of Auerstadt, rose up now 
an officer, severely injured in the head and arm. 
The sun, which had aroused him from the apathet- 
ic exhaustion into which he had sunk from loss 
of blood and hunger, now warmed his stiffened 
limbs, and allayed somewhat the racking pain in 
his wounded right arm and the bleeding gash in 
his forehead. He tried to extricate himself from 
under the carcass of his horse, that pressed heavily 
on him, and felt delighted as he succeeded in 
loosing his foot from the stirrup, and drawing it 
from under the steed. Holding with his uninjured 
left arm to the saddle, he raised himself slowly. 
The effort caused the blood to trickle in large 
drops from the wound in his forehead, which he 
disregarded under the joyful feeling that he had 
risen again from his death-bed, and that he was 
still living and breathing. For a moment he 
leaned faint and exhausted against the horse as a 
couch ; and feeling a burning thirst, a devouring 
hunger, his dark, flaming eyes wandered around 
as if seeking for a refreshing drink for his parched 
palate, or a piece of bread to appease his hunger. 

But his eye everywhere met only stiffened 
corpses, and the misery and horror of a deserted 
battle-field. He knew that no food could be 
found, as the soldiers had not, for two days, 
either bread or liquor in their knapsacks. Hunger 
had been the ally that had paved the way for the 
French emperor — it had debilitated the Prussians 
and broken their courage. 

“I must leave the battle-field,” murmured the 
wounded soldier ; “ I must save myself while I 
nave suflScient strength ; otherwise I shall die of 
hunger. Oh, my God, give me strength to escape 
from so horrible a death ! Strengthen my feet for 
this terrible walk ! ” 


He cast a single fiery glance toward heaven, 
one in which his whole soul was expressed, and 
then set out on his walk. He moved along slowly 
and with tottering steps amid the rows of corpses, 
some of which were still quivering and moaning, 
as death drew near, while others writhed and 
wailed with their wounds. Unable to relieve their 
racking pains, and to assist them in their bound- 
less misery, it only remained for him to sink 
down among them, or to avert his eyes, io closo 
his ears to their supplications, and escape with 
hurried steps from this atmosphere of blood and 
putrefaction, in order to rescue his own life from 
the clutches of death. 

He hastened, therefore, but his tearful eyes 
greeted the poor sufferers wdiom he passed on his 
way, and his quivering lips muttered a prayer for 
them. 

At length the first and most horrible part of 
this dreadful field w’as passed, and he escaped 
from the chaos of the dead and wounded. That 
part, across which he w^as walking now, was less 
saturated with gore, and the number of corpses 
scattered over it was much smaller. Here and 
there was the wreck of a cannon besmeared with 
blood and mire, and empty knapsacks, fragments 
of broken wagons and muskets, in the utmost dis- 
order and confusion. 

“Spoils for the marauders,” whispered the 
wounded officer, pressing on. “It seems they 
have not been here yet. God have mercy on me, 
if they should come now and look on me, too, as 
their spoil ! ” 

He glanced around anxiously, and in doing so 
his eye beheld an unsheathed, blood-stained sabre 
lying near his feet. He made an effort to take it 
up, regardless of the blood wffiich, in consequence 
of the effort, trickled again in larger drops from 
his wounds. 

“ Well,” he said, in a loud and menacing voice, 
“ I shall defend my life at least to the best of my 
ability ; the hateful enemies shall not capture me 
as long as I am alive. Forward, then ; forward 
with God ! He will not desert a faithful sol- 
dier ! ” 

And supporting himself oh his sabre, as if it 
were a staff, the officer walked on. Everywhere 
he met with the same signs of war and destruc- 
tion ; everywhere he beheld corpses, blood-stained 
cannon-balls, or muskets, which the fugitives had 
thrown away. 

“ Oh, for a drop of water ! ” groaned the officer, 
while slowly crossing the field ; “ my lips are 
parched ! ” 

Tottering and reeling, with the aid of his sabre, 
and by his firm, energetic will, and the resolution 


FERDINAND YON SCHILL. 


3 


of his spirit, lie succeeded once more in over- 
coming the weakness of his body. 

He hastened on with quicker steps, and hope 
now lent wings to his feet, for yonder, in the rear 
of the shrubbery, he beheld a house ; men were 
there, assistance also. 

At length, after untold efforts, and a terrible 
struggle with his pain and exhaustion, he reached 
the peasant’s house. Looking up with longing 
eyes to the windows, he shouted : “ Oh, give me a 
drink of water ! Have mercy on a wounded sol- 
dier ! ” 

But no voice responded ; no human face ap- 
peared behind the small green windows. Every 
thing remained silent and deserted. 

With a deep sigh, and an air of bitter, disap- 
pointment depicted on his features, he murmur- 
ed : 

“ My feet cannot carry me any farther. Per- 
haps my voice was too weak, and they did not 
hear me. I will advance closer to the house.” 

Gathering his strength, with staggering steps he 
approached and found the door only ajar ; where- 
upon he opened it and entered. 

Within the house every thing was as silent as 
without ; not a human being was to be seen ; not 
a voice replied to his shouts. The inside of the 
dwelling presented a sorry spectacle. All the 
doors were open; the clay floor was saturated 
here and there with blood ; the small, low rooms 
were almost empty ; only some half-destroyed 
furniture, a few broken jars and other utensils, 
were lying about. The inmates either had fled 
from the enemy, or he had expelled them from 
their house. 

“ There is no help for me,” sighed the officer, 
casting a despairing glance on this scene of desola- 
tion. “ Oh, why was it not vouchsafed to me to 
die on the battle-field ? Why did not a compas- 
sionate cannon-ball have mercy on me, and give 
me death on the field of honor ? Then, at least, 
I should have died as a brave soldier, and my 
name would have been honorably mentioned ; now 
I am doomed to be named only among the miss- 
ing ! Oh, it is sad and bitter to die alone, un- 
lamented by my friends, and with no tear of com- 
passion from the eyes of my queen ! Oh, Louisa, 
Louisa, you will weep much for your crown, for 
your country, and for your people, but you will 
not have a tear for the poor lieutenant of your 
dragoons, who is dying here alone uttering a 
prayer for a blessing on you ! Farewell queen, 
may God grant you strength, and — ” 

His words died away; a deadly pallor over- 
spread his features, his head turned dizzy, and a 
ringing noise filled his ears. 


“ Death ! death ! ” he murmured faintly, and, 
with a sigh, he fell senseless to the ground. 

Every thing had become silent again in the 
bumble house; not a human sound interrupted 
the stillness reigning in the desolate room. Only 
the hum of a few flies, rushing with their heads 
against the window-panes, was heard. Once a 
rustling noise was heard in a corner, and a mouse 
glided across the floor, its piercing, glittering eyes 
looked searchingly around, and the sight of the 
bloody, motionless form, lying prostrate on the 
floor, seemed to affright it, for it turned and 
slipped away even faster than it' had approached, 
and disappeared in the corner. 

The sun rose higher, and shone down on the 
dimmed windows of the house, reflecting their 
yellow outlines on the floor, and illuminated the 
gold lace adorning the uniform of the prostrate 
and motionless officer. 

All at once the silence was broken by the ap- 
proach of hurried steps, and a loud voice was 
heard near at hand, shouting : 

“ Is there anybody in the house ? ” 

Then every thing was still again. The new- 
comer was evidently waiting for a reply. After 
a pause, the steps drew nearer — now they were 
already in the hall ; and now the tall, slender 
form of a Prussian officer, with a bandaged head 
and arm, appeared on the threshold of the room. 
When he beheld the immovable body on the floor, 
his pale face expressed surprise and compassion. 

“ An officer of the queen’s dragoons ! ” he 
ejaculated, and in the next moment he was by his 
side. He knelt down, and placed his hand in- 
quiringly on the heart and forehead of the pros- 
trate officer. 

“ He is warm still,” he murmured, “ and it 
seems to me his heart is yet beating. Perhaps, 
perhaps he only fainted from loss of blood, just 
as I did before my wounds had been dressed. Let 
us see.” 

He hastily drew a flask from his bosom, and 
pouring some of its contents into his hand, he 
washed with it the forehead and temples of his 
poor comrade. 

A slight shudder now pervaded his whole frame, 
and he looked with a half-unconscious, dreamy 
glance into the face of the stranger, who had bent 
over him with an air of heart-felt sympathy. 

“ Where am I ? ” he asked, in a low, tremulous 
voice. 

“ With a comrade,” said the other, kindly. 
“ With a companion in misfortune who is wound- 
ed, and a fugitive like you. I am an officer of the 
Hohenlohe regiment, and fought at Jena. Since 
last night I have been wandering about, constantly 


4 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


exposed to the danger of falling into the hands of 
the enemy. My name is Piickler — it is a good 
Prussian name. You see, therefore, it is a friend 
who is assisting his poor comrade, and you need 
not fear any thing. Now, tell me what can I do 
for you ? ” 

“ Water, water ! ” groaned the wounded officer, 
“ water ! ” 

“ You had better take some of my wine here,” 
said the other ; “ it will quench your thirst, and in- 
vigorate you at the same time.” 

He held the flask to the lips of his comrade, 
and made him sip a little of the wine. 

“ Now it is enough,” he said, withdrawing the 
flask from his lips. “ Since you have quenched 
your thirst, comrade, would you not like to eat a 
piece of bread and some meat ? Ah, you smile ; 
you are surprised because I guess your wishes 
and know your sufferings. You need not wonder 
at it, however, comrade, for I have undergone just 
the same torture as you. Above all, you must 
eat something.” 

While speaking, he had produced from his 
knapsack a loaf of bread and a piece of roast 
chicken, and cutting a few slices from both, placed 
them tenderly in the mouth of the sufferer, look- 
ing on with smiling joy while the other moved 
his jaws, slowly at first, but soon more rapidly 
and eagerly. 

“ Now another draught of wine, comrade,” he 
said, “ and then I may dare to give you some 
more food. Hush ! do not say a word — it is a 
sacred work you are doing now, a work by Which 
you are just about to save a human life. You 
must not, therefore, interrupt it by any superfluous 
protestations of gratitude. Moreover, your words 
are written in your eyes, and you cannot tell me 
any thing better and more beautiful than what I 
am reading therein. Drink ! So ! And here is 
a piece of bread and a wing of the chicken. 
While you are eating, I will look around in the 
yard and garden to find there some water to wash 
your wounds.” 

Without waiting for a reply, he hastily left the 
officer alone with the piece of bread, the wing of 
the chicken, and the flask. When he returned, 
about fifteen minutes later, with a jar filled with 
water, the bread and meat had disappeared ; but 
instead of the pale, immovable, and cadaverous 
being, he found seated on the floor a young man 
with flashing eyes, a faint blush on his cheeks, 
and a gentle smile on his lips. 

“You have saved me,” he said, extending his 
hand toward his returning comrade. “ I should 
have died of hunger and exhaustion, if you had 
not relieved me so mercifully.” 


“ Comrade,” said the officer, smiling, “ you have 
just repeated the same words which I addressed 
two hours ago to another comrade whom I met 
on the retreat ; or, to speak more correctly, who 
found me lying in the ditch. The lucky fellow 
had got a horse ; he offered me a seat behind him. 
But I saw that the animal was too weak to carry 
both of us ; hence I did not accept his offer, but 
I took the refreshments which he gave to me, and 
with which he not only saved my life, but yours 
too. You are, therefore, under no obligations to 
me, but to him alone.” 

“You are as kind as you are generous,” said 
the other, gently, involuntarily raising his hand 
toward his forehead. 

“And I see that you are in pain,” exclaimed 
the officer, “ and that the wound in your head is 
burning. Mine has been dressed already, and my 
shattered arm bandaged — for I received both 
wounds yesterday in the early part of the battle, 
and the surgeon attended to them while the bul- 
lets were hissing around us.” 

“ I was wounded only when every thing was 
lost,” sighed the other. “A member of the ao 
cursed imperial guard struck me down.” 

“ I hope you gave him a receipt in full for your 
wounds ? ” asked the officer, while tenderly wash- 
ing the wound with the water he had brought 
along in the broken jar. 

The other officer looked up to him with flashing 
eyes. 

“ I gave him a receipt which he has already 
shown to God Himself,” he said, “ provided 
there is a God for these accursed French. My 
sword cleft his skull, but I fell together with 
him.” 

“Your wound here in the forehead is of no 
consequence,” said the officer ; “ the stroke only 
cut the skin. Let us put this moistened handker- 
chief on it.” 

“ Oh, now I am better,” said the other ; “ now 
that the wound burns less painfully, I feel that 
life is circulating again through all my veins.” 

“ And what about your arm ? ” 

“A lancer pierced it. I hope he was kind 
enough not to touch the bone, so that the arm 
need not be amputated. It is true, it pains se- 
verely; but, you see, I can move it a little, which 
proves that it is not shattered. Now, comrade, 
do me still another favor — assist me in rising.” 

“ Here, lean firmly on me. There ! I will lift 
you up — now you are on your legs again. Lean 
on me still, for you might become dizzy.” 

“No, I shall not. I feel again well and strong 
enough to take the burden of life on my shoulders. 
Thank God ! I am able to stand again. For, how- 


THE GERMAN SONG. 


5 


ever crushed and trampled under foot we may be, 
we will submit to our fate manfully, and stand 
erect. The conqueror and tyrant shall not suc- 
ceed in bending our heads, although he has broken 
our hearts. Ah, comrade, that was a terrible day 
when all Prussia sank in ruins ! ” 

“You were in the thickest of the fray? The 
regiment of the queen’s dragoons fought at Auer- 
stadt, I believe ? ” 

“Yes, it fought at Auerstadt, or rather it did 
the same as all the other regiments- — it deserted. 
Only a few squadrons complied with the urgent 
exhortations of the king, who led us against the 
squares of the enemy near Hassenhausen. His 
own horse was shot ; we officers stood our ground, 
but the dragoons ran away."*^ Ah, I wept with 
rage, and if my tears could have been transformed 
into bullets, they would not have been directed 
against the enemy, but against our own cow- 
ardly dragoons. The battle would have been won 
if our soldiers had not disgracefully taken to their 
heels. ' All shouts, orders, supplications, were in 
vain ; the soldiers were running, although no 
enemy pursued them; the panic had rendered 
them perfectly crazy.” 

“ And do you really believe, comrade, that we 
owe the loss of the battle exclusively to the cow- 
ardice of the soldiers ? ” asked the officer. “ Did 
our generals do their duty ? Ah, you look gloomy, 
and do not reply. Then you agree with me ? 
Let us, however, speak of all these things after- 
ward, but first of ourselves.” 

“ Yes, first of ourselves ! ” exclaimed the other, 
starting from his gloomy reflections. “ Count 
P tickler, you were kind enough to tell me your 
name, when you relieved an unknown sufierer in 
so humane a manner, and thereby saved his life. 
Now permit me to tell you my name, too, so that 
you may know at least who will always revere 
your rflemory with affection and gratitude. I am 
Second-Lieutenant Ferdinand von Scbill. You 
see, it is a very humble name ; still I had solemnly 
vowed that it should not be unknown in the bat- 
tles that were to be fought. ” 

“ And I see it written on your brow, comrade, 
that you will at some future time make up for 
what fate has now prevented you from accom- 
plishing,” said Count Piickler, kindly offering his 
hand to Lieutenant von Schill. “Yet now let us 
not think of the future, but of the present. We 
are disabled, and will be helpless as soon as the 
wound-fever sets in ; and we may be sure that that 
will be to-night. We must, therefore, find a place 
of refuge ; for, if we remain here, without assist- 
ance, and without food, we shall surely be lost.” 


“You are riglit; we must leave this house,” 
said Schill ; “ we must try to reach a city or vil- 
lage. Come, let us go. You are armed-, and I 
have got a sabre, too. Let us go, but previously 
let us swear that we will not surrender "to the 
French, but rather die, even should it be neces- 
sary to commit suicide ! You have a knife, and 
when you cut some bread for me, I saw that it 
was very sharp. Will you give it to me ? ” 

“ What for ? ” 

“ I want to stab myself as soon as I see that I 
cannot escape from the enemy ! ” 

“ And I ? What is to become o'f me ? ”< 
“Before killing myself, I shall stab you with 
my sabre. Will that content you? ” ' - - 

“ It will. Be careful, however, to hit my heart ; 
do not merely wound, but kill me.” 

“ Ah, I see that we understand each other, and 
that the same heart is pulsating in our breast ! ” 
exclaimed Schill, joyfully. “ Let us die, rather 
than be captured by the enemy, and depend on 
the 'mercy of the Corsican tyrant! Now, com- 
rade, let us go 1 For you are right ; the wound- 
fever will set in toward evening, and without as- 
sistance we shall be lost.” 

“Come,” said Piickler, “place your uninjured 
arm in mine. It seems fate has destined us for 
each other, for it has ruined your right arm and 
my left arm ; thus we can walk at least side by 
side, mutually supporting ourselves. I shall be 
your right hand, and you will lend me your left 
arm when I have to embrace anybody. But, it is 
true, no one will now care for our embrace; 
every one will mock and deride us, and try to 
read in the bloody handwriting on our»foreheads : 

‘ He is also one of the vanquished Prussians 1 ’ ” 

“ Comrade, did you not tell me, a little while 
ago, that it would be better for us to attend to our 
own affairs, before tp.lking about other matters ? ” 
“ It is true ; let us go ! ” 

And, leaning on each other, the two officers left 
the house. 


CHAPTER II. 

THE GERMAN SONG. 

It was a sunny morning in autumn ; the two 
wounded officers were inhaling the bracing air in 
long draughts, and their eyes were wandering 
over the transparent sky and the picturesque 
landscape. 

“ And to think that my eyes would never more 
have seen all this, if you had not had mercy on 


* Historical. 


6 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


me ! ” said Scliill, with a grateful glance at his 
companion. 

“ Ah, my friend,” sighed Piickler, mournfully,” 
“ we shall not always behold the sky and this beau- 
tiful, silent scene, but it may easily happen that 
we , shall see much misery to-day, and that you 
will curse your eyes for being compelled to per- 
ceive it ! Still you are right — it is better to live, 
even in anguish and distress, than to die in an- 
guish and distress ; for he who lives has still a 
future before him, and is able to strive in it for 
revenge and compensation for the past Let us 
descry our immediate future from the hill yonder, 
and there decide on the direction we shall take.” 

They walked toward the neighboring hill. 
Frequently they had to stop on the way ; frequent- 
ly they sank down exhausted ; but their will and 
youthful energy overcame their weakness, and 
finally they reached their destination : they stood 
on the summit, and were able to survey the whole 
country for many miles around. 

“Yonder, where that dreadful smoke is rising, 
is the battle-field of Auerstadt ! ” said Schill, af- 
ter a long pause, during which they had taken 
breath. 

“Yes, and beyond those hills is Jena,” said 
Piickler, sadly, “ Those are two melancholy 
names for a Prussian ear, and, like Ulysses, I 
should like to close mine so as not to hear that 
siren voice of death any more; for, I tell you, 
whenever I hear those two names, I am driven to 
despair, and would like to throw myself into that 
abyss ! ” 

“ My friend, it seems to me we are already in 
the abyss, and our first and most earnest en- 
deavors should be directed toward saving us from 
it,” said Schill, -shrugging his shoulders. “Our 
first step should be to get safely through the en- 
emy’s lines, in order to escape from the dangers 
to which a collision with the French would ex- 
pose us. Whither shall we turn now ? Have 
you formed already a definite plan, count? ” 

“ Being disabled from active service by my 
wounds, I shall repair to my estates in Silesia, 
and remain there till I have recovered. And 
you, comrade — will you permit me to make you 
an offer? If you have not yet come to a dif- 
ferent decision, you ought to accompany me, and 
stay at my house till your wounds are healed. I 
have splendid woods, and facilities for angling on 
my estates ; and if you like hunting and fishing, 

I am sure a sojourn at my house will afford you 
plenty of amusement.” 

“ But you forget that my right arm is wounded, 
count,” said Schill, with a melancholy smile ; 

“ hence, I shall be but a poor companion for you. 


and ought not to accept your kind offer. I con- 
fess, moreover, that my mind is too restless, and 
my heart too deeply grieved, to enjoy the peace 
and quiet of country life. I must remain in the 
noise and turmoil of the world, and see what will 
become of poor Prussia. I intend going to Kol- 
berg ; the fortress is strong and impregnable ; it 
will be an insurmountable bulwark against the 
enemy, and I have several intimate friends at the 
fortress. I will stay with them till I am well 
again.” 

“ Our paths, then, will soon be different. You 
will go to the north ; I, to the east. But, for a 
few days, we shall still remain together, for the 
wound-fever will compel us to advance very 
slowly. Let us look out now for a dinner, and 
for a place where we may safely sleep to-night.” 

“And, it seems to me, I see a prospect of ob- 
taining both. Yonder,” said Schill, pointing with 
his left hand to a small point on the horizon. 

“ Do you perceive that steeple ? There is a vil- 
lage, and consequently there are men; and, as it 
is situated northeast, it is in the right direction 
for both of us.” 

“You are right; we will direct our steps 
thither,” exclaimed Count Piickler. “May Fate 
be propitious to us, and keep the French out of 
our path ! ” 

They walked down the hill on the opposite side, 
and then commenced crossing, arm in arm, the 
stubble-field that lay stretched out before them. 
All around them nothing whatever was stirring — 
not a sound, not even the chirping of a bird, or 
the humming of a beetle, interrupted the pro- 
found silence ; neither a house, nor any trace of 
human life, was to be seen anywhere. 

“It is as still here as the grave,” whispered 
Count Piickler. 

“Death probably has already stalked across 
this field on its way to Jena and Auerstadt,” 
said Schill, “ and for this reason all Nature seems 
to hold its breath lest it should return.” 

“ But it will not return very soon, for I should 
think Death itself must be exhausted by the ter- 
rible work it had to perform on the battle-field. 
Comrade, now that we know our destination, and 
have arranged our affairs, we may converse a lit- 
tle about the dreadful events which occurred yes- 
terday. You were at Auerstadt. Do you know 
that at Jena. we had no knowledge whatever of 
the battle that was going on at Auerstadt, and 
were informed of it only in the evening, after we 
had been completely routed ? We did not hear 
the reports of your guns ! ” 

“ So it was with us, too. At Auerstadt we did 
not know that a battle was being fought at Jena ; 


THE GERMAN SONG. 


the roar of our own artillery prevented us from 
hearing yours. Only when the king had sent off 
several orderlies to order the Prince of Hohen- 
lohe and General Riichel to cover our retreat, we 
’learned, from the chasseur who returned first, that 
a battle had been fought also at Jena, and that 
Hohenlohe and Riichel were unable to afford us 
any assistance. I cannot describe to you the dis- 
may produced by this intelligence. Every one 
thought only of saving himself ; there was no 
longer any obedience, sense of honor, or bravery. 
The generals were too confused to issue orders, 
and the soldiers too frightened to listen to their 
officers.” ' 

“ And the king ? ” 

“ The king was evidently determined to die. His 
face was livid, his lips were quivering ; wherever 
the bullets rained down most murderously, thither 
he spurred his horse. He had two horses killed, 
but remained uninjured. It seems Fate was too 
unmerciful toward him : it had decreed that the 
King of Prussia should not die, but learn in the 
stern school of suffering and experience what 
Prussia needs.” 

“ And the Duke of Brunswick — the com- 
mander-in-chief? ” 

“ Ah, you do not yet know the terrible fate that 
befell him ? A bullet passed through his head ; 
it entered on the right side, and came out on the 
left. This happened in the early part of the bat- 
tle : the duke was brought back to Auerstadt in 
a fainting condition ; his wound was dressed there, 
and then he was carried by some soldiers to 
Blankenburg.” 

“ The duke is not yet dead, then, notwithstand- 
ins this terrible wound ? ” 

“No,” said Schill, solemnly, “God would not 
let him die without reaping the fruit of what he 
had sown. For his mental blindness God pun- 
ished him with physical blindness. The ball de- 
stroyed both his eyes.” 

“ Dreadful ! ” muttered Count Piickler. 

“ You pity him ? ” asked Schill, harshly. “ You 
had better pity the thousands who are lying on 
the bloody battle-fields of Jena and Auerstadt, 
and accusing the duke of having murdered them ! 
You had better pity Prussia’s misfortunes and 
disgrace, which have been brought about by the 
duke ! For, I tell you, the indecision, vacillation, 
and timidity of the duke were the sole causes of 
our terrible disaster. All of us felt and knew it. 
None of the younger officers and generals had 
any doubt of it ; every one knew that those old 
gentlemen, who had outlived their own glory, 
and still believed that they lived in the days of 
Frederick the Great, were unequal to the occasion. 


to the present time, and to the present war. Be- 
cause we were aware of this, we made the utmost 
efforts to bring about a change of commanders. 
We elected a deputation of officers, and sent 
them to General Kalkreuth, for the purpose of 
laying our complaints and prayers before him, and 
of imploring him to induce the king to deprive 
the duke of his command, and to intrust it to 
younger and more resolute hands. The deputa- 
tion consisted of none but skilful, prominent, and 
highly-esteemed officers, who boldly declared it to 
be their firm conviction that the king was in dan- 
ger of losing his crown and bis 'states, if the 
Duke of Brunswick should remain at the head of 
the army.” ^ 

“ And what did General Kalkreuth reply to 
them ? ” 

“ The general asked, in a harsh tone, for a fur- 
ther explanation of their words, and the officers 
gave it to him. They censured the duke’s idea of 
establishing a camp at Weimar, and dwelt con- 
temptuously on the reasons that might have in- 
duced him to do so. They proved, by referring to 
the whole proceedings of the duke, that he knew 
neither what he was doing nor what he wanted 
to do ; neither where he was, nor whither he was 
going ; and they added that, in consequence of 
this deplorable state of affairs, the whole army 
was filled with the most startling and discoura- 
ging rumors. f But their prayers, their remon- 
strances, their angry denunciations, and predic- 
tions, were unavailing. General Kalkreuth could 
not make up his mind to represent the dangers 
of the situation to the king, although he him- 
self was just as well satisfied of its critical char- 
acter as all the younger officers of the aimy. 
And thus we were defeated, disastrously defeated 
and routed, in spite of all warnings of our con- 
sciousness of the danger, and of all predictions. 
This time it was not the inexperience and im- 
petuosity of youth, but the antiquated method 
and slowness of age, that brought about our ruin.” 

“ Yes, you are right,” sighed Count Piickler ; 
“ our old generals are the cause of our misfor- 
tunes.” 

“Do you know, for instance,” asked Schill, 
indignantly, “why we lost the important defile 
of Kosen? In consequence of the night-sweat 
of General von Schmettau ! ” 

“Ah, you can jest even now!” said Piicklei, 
sadly. 

“ I do not jest, by any means ; on the contrary, 
I am in dead earnest 1 The Duke of Brunswick 

* Tide Frederick von Gentz’s writings, edited by G. 
Schlesier, vol. ii., p. 314. 
t Ibid., vol. if, p. 815. 


8 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


had ordered the general, on the day before the 
battle, to start early next morning with his divi- 
sion, and occupy the defile of Kosen. His ad- 
jutant, Lieutenant von Pfuel, went repeatedly to 
his headquarters to remind him of the urgent ne- 
cessity of setting out, and to implore him to rise 
from his bed. ‘ But, sir,’ replied the old general, 

‘ let me wait at least until my night-sweat is gone ; 
I understand*-! it is very chilly morning!’^ 
The old general did not rise until nine o’clock, 
and started at ten with his division toward Kosen. 
When he reached the defile he found that Mar- 
shal Davoust had caused it to be occupied by a 
regiment of infantry scarcely an hour before. That 
night-sweat of the old general has become the 
death-sweat of many brave Prussians, and the 
gray hairs of the old chieftain will now cause the 
hair of our youth to turn gray with shame and 
grief.” 

“ Oh, it is a terrible disgrace for us, and I 
hardly know how we are to bear it in a manly 
and dignified manner,” said Count Piickler, 
gloomily. “In these hours of melancholy only 
we feel the full extent of our ardent love for our 
country ; now only we perceive the indissoluble 
ties that attach our hearts to it ! I should like 
to pour out my blood in tears for this crushed, 
disgraced, and yet so dearly -beloved country, 
and I feel that if we do not rise speedily from our 
degradation, I shall die of despair ! ” 

“You will not die,” said Schill, gravely, “for 
all of us who love Prussia, and are devoted to her 
honor, must not think of dying at the present 
time ; all of us must assist Prussia in rising again 
from the dust, so that she may once more boldly 
meet the tyrant, and take revenge for herself and 
for Germany ! For Prussia is Germany now, be- 
cause she is the only power in Germany that has 
resisted and braved the Corsican conqueror. But 
God wanted first to arouse her from her arro- 
gance ana vanity, and make the weakness of her 
leading men known to her, that she might rise 
after a noble regeneration and with redoubled 
strength. Life springs from death, and Prussia 
had to fall so low as to break her old decrepit 
limbs that were still kept together by her glory 
from the Seven Years’ W^ar; and then the young, 
vigorous soldier of the new century will arise and 
draw the sword to deliver his subjugated coun- 
try, and avenge its desecrated honor ! ” 

“ Then you hope still for a change for the bet- 
ter ? ” asked Count Piickler, mournfully. 

“ I base my hopes on the propitious star of 
Prussia,” exclaimed Schill, enthusiastically, “on 

* Tide Forster’s “Modern History of Prussia,” vol. 
i, p. 75T. 


the future, on the wrath and grief which will 
awake now inwall Prussian hearts, arousing the 
sluggards, strengthening the vacillating, and ur- 
ging the timid. I base my hopes on the tears of 
Queen Louisa, which will move Heaven to help 
us and awaken avengers on earth. And, for our- 
selves, comrade, with our wounds, with our dis- 
grace, we must be like the spirits of vengeance 
that sweep across the heath in the howling storm 
of adversity, and awaken the sleeper who would 
give way to dreams of peace and inaction. Prussia 
must not make peace in her present calamitous 
condition ; she must fill the hearts and minds of all 
with longings for war, till the whole nation arises 
in its rage and expels the enemy from the coun- 
try! My friend, we have now witnessed the 
downfall of Prussia, but henceforth we must ex- 
ert ourselves in order to witness also her regen- 
eration. We ourselves must be the — ” 

“ Hush ! ” said Piickler, hastily. “ Just look 
there, and then take your sabre.” 

They were now near a field-path leading to a 
small wood which a slender youth had just left, 
and was hastily approaching them. As yet, how- 
ever, he was so far from them that they were un- 
able to distinguish his features or his dress, and 
to discern whether he was an armed soldier or a 
peaceable wanderer. 

“It is, doubtless, a French soldier, and his 
comrades are lying in ambush,” murmured Piick- 
ler, placing his hand on his sword. 

“ If he wants to attack us, he had better say 
his death-prayers,” said Schill, calmly. “There 
are two of us, and each has one uninjured arm.” 

The youth had meanwhile drawn nearer, and 
they saw that he did not wear any uniform. 

“ He is very young,” said Piickler, “ and a civil- 
ian. He has apparently not yet seen us. That 
bush yonder is concealing us from his eyes. Let 
us stoop a little, and, as the path lies beyond, he 
may pass by without noticing us.” 

They knelt down behind the bush, but, while 
doing so, took their swords, and prepared for an 
attack. Then they held their breath and listened. 

Profound silence reigned around, and nothing 
was to be heard but the quick steps of the wan- 
derer, who drew nearer and nearer. Suddenly 
this silence was interrupted by a fresh and youth- 
ful voice, singing the air of a popular song. 

“Ah, he sings,” murmured Schill. “He who 
can sing to-day, must be very harmless, and it is 
not worth while to kill him.” 

“ Hush ! hush 1 let us listen to his song. He 
is now singing words to the melody. Just lis- 
ten ! ” 

The voice resounded nearer and nearer to the 


THE OATH OF VENGEANCE. 


9 


two listeners, and they could understand the 
words he was singinsr : 

O O 

O Hermann 1 for thy country’s fall 

No tears 1 Where vanquished valor bled 
The victor rules, and Slavery’s pall 

Upon these hi’ls and vales is spread. 

Shame burns within me, for the brave 
Lie mouldering in the freeman’s grave. 

No voice I where sturdy Luther spoke 
Fearless for men who dared be freel 
O would that Heaven’s thunder woke 
My people for their liberty 1 
Must heroes fight and die in vain ? — 

Te cowards I grasp your swords again! 

Revenge I revenge ! a gory shroud 

To tyrants, and the slaves that yield I 
Eternal honor calls aloud 

For courage in the battle-field. 

Who loves or fears a conquered land 
That bows beneath the despot’s hand ? 

And whither flee ? Where Winkelried 
And Tell and Euyter bravely broke 
Oppression’s power — their country freed — 

All — all beneath the usurper’s yokel 
From Alpine fountains to the sea 
The patriot dead alone are free. 

My people I in this sorrowing night, 

The clanking of your chains may be 
The sign of vengeance, and the fight 
Of former times the world may see, 

Wlren Hermann in that storied day 
Asa wild torrent cleft his way. 

No idle song, O youth ! thy boast. 

In self-born virtue be as one 
Who is himself a mighty host 

By whose sole arm is victory won. 

No blazoned monument so grand 
As death for the dear Fatherland. 

To die! how welcome to the brave! 

The tomb awakes no coward fear 
Save to the wretched, trembling slave 
Who for his country sheds no tear. 

To crown me with a fadeless wreath 
Be thine, O happy, sacred death ! 

Come, shining sword I avenge my dead ! 

Alone canst thou remove this shame. 

Proud ornament! with slaughter red 
Restore my native land its fame. 

By night, by day, in sun or shade. 

Be girt around me, trusty blade. 

The trumpet on the morning gale ! 

Arm I forward to the bloody strife ! 

From loftiest moimtain to the vale 
Asks dying Freedom for her life. 

Our standard raise, to glory given, 

And higher still our hearts to Heaven.* 


* This is one of Arndt’s soul-stirring, patriot''c hymns, 
published in 1806. It is difiicult to render int(i readable 
English this species of German heroic verse so as to pre- 
serve its rhythm. All the thought of the original is how- 


Just when the youth had sung the last verse in 
a ringing voice, he had reached the bush. And 
now there arose above it two pale heads, wrapped 
in white, blood-stained handkerchiefs, and sang in 
enthusiastic tone the last verse of the song they 
had heard : 

Was das Lied nicht loset, lost das Schwert! 

Blinkend Heil, urngiirtc meine Huften ! 

Yor der Schande kannst du Tapfre retten, 

Zierde der Tapfern ! 


CHAPTEPw III. 

THE OATH OP VENGEANCE. 

Speechless with surprise, the youth had lis- 
tened to the song, and fixed his large eyes stead- 
fastly on the two officers, whose uniforms and 
wounds revealed to him. the melancholy fate that 
had befallen them during the last few days. 

ever expressed in the translation. The only change oi 
any importance is the transposition of the seventh stanza. 

Keine Thrane, Hermann, fiir dein Yolk ? 

Heine Thrane, und die Schande brennet, 

Und der Feind gebietet, wo die Freien 
Siegten und flelen ? 

Keine Stimme laut, wo Luther sprach ? 

Alle Donner, die der Himmel sendet, 

Sollten rufen: Yolk erwache I feiges ; 

Greife zum Schwerte. 

Eache ! Eache ! heissen, blut’gen Tod 
Sklavenfiirsten und dem Emecht der fliehet ! 
Miinnerwort gefiirchtet und gepriesen, 

Miinnliche Tugend 1 

Ach wohin ? wo Winkelried erlag, 

Wilhelm schlug, und Euyter tapfer siegte ; 

Auf den hdehsten Alpen, in den tiefsten 
Siimpfen ist Knechtschaft. 

Auch du, Hermann’s, auch du, kuhnes Yolk ? 

Auf! Erwache! Schiittle deine Ketten, 

Bass die Schmach die Welt vernehme, bald auch 
Blutige Eache ! 

Lieder helfen hier and Maler nicht. 

Miiler? Tief im Herzen sei das Denkmal, 

An dem Thurm der selbstgebornen Tugend,' 

Hebe dich, Jiingling ! 

Und voran geworfen kiihn die Brust, 

Und empor das Auge zu dem Himmel, 

Hoch die Fahne ! Hoch zum Himmel ! Hoher 
Flammendo Herzen. 

Tod, du susser, fur das Yaterland, 

Siisser als der Brautgruss, als das Lallen 
Auf dem Mutterschooss des ersten Kindeg, 

Sei mir willkommen ! 

Was das Lied nicht Idset, lost das Schwert, 
Blinkend Heil, umgiirte meine Huften ! 

Yor der Schande kannst du Tapfre retten, 

Zierde dor Tapfern! 


10 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


When the two were silent, he approached them 
with an air of profound respect. 

“ Bravo, officers of Auerstadt or Jena,” he 
said, with a voice trembling with emotion, “ per- 
mit a poor young wanderer to present his respects 
to you, and to thank you, in the name of the 
German fatherland, for the wounds on your fore- 
heads. Such wounds are also an ‘ ornament of 
the brave.’ ” * 

“And such words are an ornament of a noble 
heart,” exclaimed Schill, offering lys hand to the 
youth. 

He took it with a joyful gesture, and, quickly 
kneeling down, imprinted a glowing kiss on the 
feverish hand of the wounded officer. 

“ My God ! ” exclaimed Schill, surprised, “ what 
are you doing ? How can a man kiss another’s 
hand and kneel before him ? Else ! ” 

“ I am no man,” said the youth, deeply moved. 
“I am but a poor boy, who has not yet done any 
thing for his country, and, perhaps, never will be 
able to do any thing for it, but who feels the most 
profound respect for those who were more fortu- 
nate than he. I, therefore, kiss yoiir hand as 
Catholics kiss the hands of their saints and mar- 
tyrs. For are you not at the present hour a mar- 
tyr of German liberty ? Hence, sir, give me your 
hand, too. Let me press my poor lips on it, also. 
It is the only way for me to manifest my profound 
respect for you.” 

“ No,” said Count Piickler, feelingly, “ you 
shall not kiss my hand, but my cheeks and my 
lips. Let me embrace you, young man, let me 
embrace you for the boon you have conferred on 
us by your words. Come, sir ! ” 

The young man uttered a joyous cry, and, ris- 
ing quickly, threw himself with youthful impetu- 
osity into the count’s arms. 

“ I will and must have my share in the em- 
brace,” exclaimed Schill, smiling ; “ did not you 
before expressly request me, comrade, to lend you 
my left arm for every embrace ? Well, then, here 
it is.” 

He quickly wound his left arm around the 
necks of the others, and pressed them firmly to 
his heart. When they withdrew their arms again, 
tears were glistening in the eyes of the officers as 
well as in those of the youth. 

“ Grief and adversity cause men easily to frater- 
nize,” said Schill, “and therefore yve shall be 
brethren henceforward.” 

“ You will be my brethren ? ” exclaimed the 
young man, joyfully. “You will permit the poor 
boy to call t\vo heroes brethren ? ” 


“Heroes!” said Piickler, sighing. “Then you 
do not know, my friends, that we were disgrace- 
fully defeated and trampled under foot in yester- 
day’s battle ? ” 

“ I know that, but I know also that the luck of 
battles is not the true standard for the bravery of 
warriors. Yoii at least did not run, and, like true 
heroes, you bear your wounds on your foreheads ; 
your mothers, therefore, will proudly bid you w^el- 
come ; your betrothed or your wives will embrace 
you wdth rapturous tears, and your friends will bo 
proud of your valor.” 

“ Does it not seem almost as though he had 
heard our mournful and despondent words, and 
wished to comfort us ? ” asked Schill, turning to 
the count. “ His blue eyes apparently do not be- 
hold only our physical wounds, but also those 
which cause our hearts to bleed, and he wishes 
to apply a balm to them by his sweet, flattering 
words.” 

“He wishes to console the poor defeated, and 
reconcile them to their fate,” said Piickler, nod- 
ding kindly to the youth. 

“You have a better and more generous opinion 
of me than I deserve,” he said, sadly bowing his 
head so as to shake its exuberant mass of long, 
fair hair. “ I simply told you what I thought, and 
what every one who looks at both of you will and 
must think.” 

“Would to God you spoke the truth, young 
man ! ” said Count Piickler, mournfully. “ Be- 
lieve me, however, but few w'ill think like your- 
self ; a great many will rejoice at seeing us de- 
feated and humiliated.” 

“ Instead of bewailing us, they will deride us,” 
exclaimed Schill ; “ instead of weeping with us, 
they will revile us ! ” 

“ Who wull dare to do so ? ” exclaimed the 
youth, in an outburst of generous anger. “Do 
you forget, then, that you are in Germany, and 
that you have shed your blood for your country ? 
Your German brethren will not deride you ; they 
will not rejoice at your sufferings ; they will hope 
with you for a better and more fortunate day 
when you will get even with that insolent and 
hateful enemy, for the battles of Jena and Auer- 
stadt.” 

“ Pray to God, my young friend, that that day 
may speedily dawn ! ” said Count Puckler, heav- 
ing a sigh. 

“ Pray 1 ” ejaculated the young man, impetu- 
ously. “ In times like ours it is not sufficient to 
pray and to hope for divine assistance ; we ought 
rather to act and toil, and, instead of folding our 
hands, arm them either with the sword or with 
the dagger.” 


* An allusion to the last line of tlie original song. 


THE OATH OF VENGEANCE 


11 


“ With the dagger ? ” asked Schill. “ The dag- 
ger is the weapon of assassins.” 

“ Was Moeros an assassin because he wanted to 
stab Dionysius the tyrant ? ” asked the youth. 
“ Was he not rather a generous and high-minded 
man, whom our* great Schiller deemed worthy of 
becoming the hero of one of his finest poems ? 
When the fatherland is in danger, every weapon 
is sacred, and every way lawful which a bold heart 
desires to pursue, to deliver the country.” 

“ Well, I see already that your heart will choose 
the right, and not shrink back from dangers,” 
said Piickler, kindly. “But, in the first place, 
tell us which way you are now going to take, that 
we may know whether we shall be allowed to ac- 
company you or not.” 

“ I come from Erfurt, where my parents are 
livine,” said the young man; “last night I was 
at Weimar, and now I am, going to do what I 
have sworn a solemn oath to my father to do. I 
am on my way to Leipsic.” 

“ And may I inquire what you are going to do 
in Leipsic ? ” 

The young man was silent, and a flaming blush 
mantled for a moment his delicate, innocent face. 
“ According to my father’s wishes, I shall become 
there a merchant’s apprentice,” he said, in a low 
and embarrassed voice. 

“ What ! Feeling so generous an enthusiasm 
for the fatherland and its soldiers, you want to 
become a merchant ? ” asked Schill, in surprise. 

The youth raised his blue eyes to him; they 
were filled with tears. 

“ I am ordered to become a merchant,” he said 
in a low voice. “ My father is a pious preacher, 
and hates and detests warfare ; he says it is sin- 
ful for men to raise their weapons against their 
brethren, as though they were wild beasts, against 
which' you cannot defend yourself but by kill- 
ing them. My mother, in former days, became 
familiar with the horrors of war ; she fears, there- 
fore, lest her only son should fall a prey to them, 
and wishes to protect him from such a fate. 
With bitter tears, with folded hands, nay, almost 
on her knees, she implored me to desist from my 
purpose of becoming a soldier, and not to break 
her heart with grief and anguish. My mother 
begged and wept, my father scolded and threat- 
ened, and thus I was obliged to yield and be a 
dutiful son. Three days ago my father admin- 
istered the sacrament to me, and I swore an oath 
to him at the altar to remain faithful to the avoca- 
tion he had selected for me, and never to become 
a soldier ! ” 

He paused, and the tears which had filled his 
eyes rolled like pearls over his cheeks. 


“Poor friend! ” murmured Piickler. 

“ Poor brother I ” said Schill, indignantly. “ To 
be doomed to wield the yardstick in place of the 
sword 1 How can a father be so cruel as to make 
his son take such a pledge at the present time ? ” 
“My father is not cruel,” said the youth, 
gently ; “ his only aim is my happiness, but he 
wishes to bring it about in his own way, and 
not in mine. It behooves a son to yield and 
obey. Accordingly, I shall not become a soldier, 
but God knows whether it will be conducive to my 
happiness. Many a one has already 'been driven 
to commit a crime by his despair at having chosen 
an unsuitable avocation. But let us speak no 
more of myself,” he added, shaking his head in- 
dignantly, as if he wanted to drive the tears 
from his eyes ; “ let us speak no more of my 
petty, miserable grief, but of your great sorrow, 
which all Germany shares with you. You know 
now every thing concerning my alfairs, and it 
only remains for me to mention my name. It is 
Staps ; ‘ Frederick Staps ’ will be my firm one day, 
if I should live to see it.” 

“ Your name is Frederick, like that of Prussia’s 
great king,” said Schill, comfortingly, “ and who 
knows whether you will not one day become a 
great soldier like him ? ” 

“ But I have told you already that I have sworn 
at the altar never to become a soldier,” said Fred- 
rick Staps, sighing. “ I shall never break the 
oath I have sworn to my father, nor the one 
either which I have sworn to myself! ” 

“ The oath that you will become a good and 
honest man, I suppose ? ” asked Buckler. 

“ It is unecessary to take such an oath, be- 
cause that is a matter of course,” said Frederick 
Staps, quickly. “ I swore another oath, but no- 
body but God must know it. When the time has 
come, you shall be informed of it. Do not forget 
my name, and when you hear from me one day, 
remember this hour and the tears you saw me 
shed for being compelled to choose an avocation 
that is repugnant to me.” 

“ And in order to remember us, you must know 
who we are,” exclaimed Count Piickler, stating 
his name. 

“And my name is Schill,” said the lieutenant. 
“We fought at Auerstadt and Jena, and are 
now wandering about, and seeking for a place 
where we may spend the coming night.” 

“ You will find it in the village in the rear of 
the wood,” said Frederick Staps. “ Come, I will 
guide you back to the village and to the country 
parson, to whom I have on my way just presented 
my father’s respects. He is a good and generous 
man. You will be kindly received and nursed by 


12 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


him and his wife ; and if French soldiers should 
come to his house, he would not betray, but con- 
ceal you.” 

“ Oh, what delightful words you have just ut- 
tered ! ” exclaimed Schill, joyously. “ Blessed be 
your lips which have announced to us that we 
shall be saved, for, let me tell you, we should pre- 
fer death to French captivity ! ” 

“I understand that,” said Frederick Staps, 
quietly. “ Come, I will guide you thither.” 

“ And we accept your offer, as friends ought to 
accept that of a friend,” said Count Piickler. 
“We do not say: ‘We cause you trouble and 
loss of time ; let us therefore try to find our 
way alone ; ’ but we say : ‘ In these days of afflic- 
tion we are all brethren, and we must rely on each 
other’s assistance.’ Come, therefore, brother, and 
be our guide.” 

They walked slowly toward the small wood 
from which Staps had issued. 

“You stated you had been in Weimar, and 
spent a night there,” asked Count Piickler. 
How does the place look — what do people say, 
and who is there ? ” 

“ It looks like a pandemonium,” replied Staps. 
“Nothing is to be heard but curses, shouts, 
threats, and screams ; nothing to be seen but 
faces pale with terror, and fleeing from the pur- 
suing soldiers. The streets are crowded with 
men, wagons, and horses. The inhabitants want 
to leave the city ; they know not whither to es- 
cape, and are forced back at the gates by French 
soldiers making their entry, or by vehicles filled 
with wounded.” 

“ And how is it at the palace ? The duchess 
has fled from the wrath of the conqueror, I sup- 
pose ? ” 

“No, the duchess has remained to beg Napo- 
leon to have mercy on her state and her husband.” 

“ But is Napoleon already in Weimar ?” 

“Yes; he came over from Jena this morn- 
ing. The duchess received him at the foot of the 
palace staircase, and did not avert her eyes from 
his angry and haughty glances, but looked at him 
with the proud calmness of a noble German 
lady. ‘ You have not fled, then ? ’ asked Napo- 
leon, harshly. ‘ Then you do not fear my anger at 
the senseless and hostile conduct of your hus- 
band?’ The duchess looked quietly at him. 
‘You see, sire, I have remained because I have 
confided in your generosity, and wished to inter- 
cede for my husband and my people.’ Napoleon 
looked at her during a long pause, and her quiet 
dignity seemed to impress him very favorably. 

‘ That was well done,’ he said at last, ‘ and for 
your .sake, and because you have reposed con- 


fidence in me, I will forgive your husband.’ * I do 
not know what occurred afterward, for I left the 
palace when Napoleon had retired to the rooms 
reserved for his personal use. My cousin, who is 
lady’s maid of the duchess, told me what I have 
just related to you.” 

“ And you did not hear any thing about our 
king and his consort ? ” 

“ Both are said to be on the way to Magdeburg, 
where they will remain, if the pursuing enemy 
will permit them. Napoleon’s hatred and wrath 
are not yet satiated, and his latest bulletin is 
written in the same vulgar guard-room style as all 
the recent manifestoes in which he dares to revile 
the noble and beautiful queen.” 

“ Then another bulletin has appeared ? ” 

“It was just distributed among the troops 
when I left Weimar. A soldier, whopa I asked 
for his copy, gave it to me. Do you wish to 
read it ? ” 

“ Read it to us,” said Count Piickler. “ Let us 
rest a little in the shade of these trees, for I 
confess I feel greatly exhausted, and my feet 
refuse to carry me any farther. And how do 
you feel, comrade ? ” 

“Do you believe,” asked Schill, in a faint voice, 
“ do you believe that I should not have given 
vent to my anger at the impudence of that Cor- 
sican who dares to revile our noble queen, if I 
had had suffleient strength to speak? Let us 
sit down and rest. See, there is a splendid old 
oak. Let us take breath under its shade.” 

They walked toward a large oak, which stood 
at the entrance of ipie wood, and the foot of 
which was overgrdwti with fragrant green moss. 
Assisted by Staps, the two offleers seated them- 
selves, and the roots, covered with soft turf, 
served as pillows to their wounded heads. 

“ Oh, how delightful to rest on German soil 
under a German oak ! ” sighed Schill. “ I should 
like to lie here all my lifetime, looking up to 
the rustling leaves, and dreaming! Amid the 
stillness surrounding us, it is almost impossible 
to believe that we witnes.sed yesterday such wild 
strife and bloodshed. Is all this reality, or have 
we had merely an evil, feverish dream ? ” 

“ Touch your, forehead; try to raise your right 
arm, and you will see that it is reality,” said 
Piickler, laughing bitterly, “ and if you should 
have any doubt, let our young friend read the 
latest bulletin issued by our triumphator. But 
will you promise not to interrupt him, nor to 
be angry at what we are going to hear ? ” 

Napoleon’s own words. — Tide “ M6moires de Con- 
stant,” vol. iv., and “ Histor 7 of Napoleon,” by * * ♦ r, 
vol. ii., p. 105. 


THE OATH OF VENGEANCE. 


13 


“ I promise you to be perfectly calm, for my 
weakness compels me to be so. Read, friend 
Staps. But, pray, let us have the German trans- 
lation, for it would be a violation of the peace- 
ful silence of the forest, and of the sacredness 
of the German oak, if we should use here the 
language of our enemies.” 

Frederick Staps sat down opposite the oflS- 
cers, on the trunk of a fallen tree. Drawing a 
paper from his bosom, he unfolded it, and read 
as follows : 

“The battle of Jena has effaced the disgrace 
of Rossbach, and decided a campaign in seven 
days. Since the ninth of October we have pro- 
ceeded from victory to victory, and the battles of 
Jena and Auerstadt have crowned all. The Prus- 
sian army is dispersed — almost annihilated, The 
king is wandering about without shelter, and the 
queen will now regret with bitter tears that she 
instigated her husband to this senseless and un- 
just war. Admirable was the conduct of our 
whole army, soul-stirring the enthusiasm of the 
brave soldiers for their chieftain and emperor. 
When there was any momentary difficulty to over- 
come, the shout of ‘ Long live the emperor ! ’ re- 
sounded, animating all souls, and carrying away 
all hearts. The emperor saw at the most critical 
moment of the battle that the enemy’s cavalry 
threatened the flanks of the infantry. He galloped 
up to order new manoeuvres, and the front to be 
transformed into a square. At every step he was 
hailed by shouts of ‘ Long live the emperor ! ’ 
The soldiers of the imperial guard were jealous 
of all the other corps who participated in the 
battle, while they alone were inactive. Several 
voices were already heard to shout, ‘ Forward ! ’ 
The emperor turned and asked, ‘ What is that ? 
He must assuredly be a beardless youth who wishes 
to anticipate me as to what I ought to do. Let 
him wait until he has commanded in twenty bat- 
tles ; then he may claim to be my adviser. The 
whole guard replied to this rebuke by the unani- 
mous shout of ‘ Long live the emperor ! ’ and 
rushed toward the enemy, when, at length, the 
order was given to charge. The results of this 
battle are from thirty to forty thousand prisoners, 
th^ree hundred fieldpieces, and thirty standards. 
Among the prisoners there are more than twenty 
generals. The losses of the Prussian army are 
very heavy, amounting to more than twenty 
thousand killed and wounded. Our losses are 
estimated at about twelve hundred killed and 
three thousand wounded.” * 

Profound silence ensued when Staps had read 


the bulletin. The two officers were still lying on 
.the ground, and their dilated eyes gazing at the 
roof of foliage above them. 

“ And we must quietly listen to that,” said 
Schill, after a long pause ; “ and our hearts do not 
break with grief and rage ! heaven does not grow 
dark, and earth does not open to swallow up the 
degraded, in order to save them compassionately 
from the sense of their humiliation ! These words 
will be read by the whole of Europe, and all will 
know that this insolent conqueror may dare with 
impunity to speak in insulting terms of our queen, 
the purest and best of women ! ” 

“ He is the master of the world, and will issue 
many more bulletins of this description, and speak 
in such terms of many more princes and prin- 
cesses,” said Count Piickler. “He has the power 
to do so. He needs only stretch out his hand, and 
kingdoms fall to ruins — nations are at his feet, 
and cry imploringly : ‘ Let us be your slaves, and 
lay your hand on us as our lord and master ! ’ It 
is useless to resist him. Let us, therefore, sub- 
mit.” 

“ No,” exclaimed Schill, rising," “ nO, let us not 
submit. When a whole nation arouses itself, and 
shakes its lion’s mane, there is no hand, even 
though it were an iron one, that could hold and 
subdue it.” 

“But our nation will not rise again — ^it has 
been crushed,” said Piickler, mournfully. “ It is 
sleeping the sleep of death.” 

“ No, it has not been crushed. No, it will not 
die ! ” exclaimed Schill, in an outburst of generous 
rage. “ It is only necessary to instill genuine vi- 
tality into its veins, and to awaken it from its 
lethargy by soul-stirring exhortations, as our 
young friend here encouraged and strengthened 
us an hour ago by his noble song. Oh, sing again, 
friend Staps ! Purify the air — which is still in- 
fected by the words of the imperial bulletin — 
purify it by another German song, and let the na- 
tive oak, which has listened to our disgrace, now 
hear also manly words. Sing ! and may your 
voice reach our poor soldiers who are closing their 
eyes on the battle-field ; and may it breathe the 
consolation into their ears, ‘You die for Germany, 
but Germany does not die — she lives, and will rise 
again ! ’ ” 

“ Yes, I will sing,” said Frederick Staps, enthu- 
siastically, “ but I wish that every note issuing 
from my breast would transform itself into a 
sword, and strike around with the storm’s resist- 
less fury ! ” 

“ In that case all of us, and yourself, too, would 
be the first victims,” said Piickler. with a melan- 
choly smile. 


* Fifth bulletin of the Grand Army. 


14 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


“Of what consequence are our lives, if they 
are given up for the fatherland ? ” exclaimed 
Staps, fervently. “ Oh, believe me, I could, like 
Mucius Scsevola, lay my hand on the red-hot iron, 
and not wince, but sing jubilant hymns, if I 
thought that my torture would be useful to""my 
country. Now, I can only sing, only pray, only 
weep. But who knows whether I shall not be- 
come one day a modern Mucius Scasvola, a modern 
Moeros, and deliver the world from its tyrant ? ” 

And suddenly raising his voice, with a radiant 
face, he began to sing : 

rrisck auf I Es ruft das Vatcrland 
Die Manner in die Schlacht. 

Eriscli auf! Zu diimpfen Trug und Schand! 

Heran mit Macht, mit MacLt ! 

ITeran und hraucht den Mannerleib, 

Wozu ihn Gott gebaut: 

Zum Schirm der Jungfrau und dem Weib, 
Dem Silugling und der Brautl 

Denn eib Tyrann mit Liigenwort 
Und Strick und Henkerscbwert, 

Uebt in dem Yaterlande Mord, 

Und schiindet Thron und Hecrd, 

Und will, so weit die Sonne scbeint 
Der einz’ge Kdnig sein ; 

Ein Menschenfeind, ein Freibeitsfeind, 
Spricbt er ; die Welt ist mein ! 

Verhiit’ es Gott und Hermann’s BlutI 
Nie werde solches wahr! 

^Erwacbe, alter deutscber Muth, 

Der Eecbt und Licht gebar ! 

Erwache ! sender East und Euh, 

' Schlag’ Jeden der dir droht, 

Und ruf ibm deutsche Losung zu ; 

“ Sieg gelt’ es, oder Tod I ” * 

. “ Victory or death ! ” shouted the two oflScers, 
raising their hands and eyes toward heaven. 

“ When will the Germans sing and act in this 
manner ?” asked Count Piickler, sadly„ 

“ When w'e have awakened them ! ” exclaimed 
Schill, joyfully. “ For that is now our only task : 
to arouse the Germans, and to remind them of 
their duty and honor. Every one ought to raise 
his voice for this purpose, and toil for it. The 
time is past when the nation was separated from 
the army, and when the civilian hated the soldier. 
All these separate interests we buried yester- 
day on the battle-fields of Jena and Auerstadt. 
Beaven permitted our army to be defeated for 
the purpose of teaching us that its heart was 
demoralized and its vitality entirely gone. But 
Bonaparte, who believes his successes to be due 
solely to his own energy and sagacity, is, after all, 
nothing but the scourge that God uses to chas- 
tise us. And, after chastising us suflSciently, the 

* “ Victory or death I ” A very popular hymu of that 
period. 

\ 


scourge will be cast aside, and lie on the ground, 
trampled under foot and despised, while we shall 
rise and become again a glorious nation. But, 
in order to bring about this change, it is neces- 
sary to arouse the Prussians, and fan the flames 
of their patriotism. Every Prussian must feel 
and know that he is a soldier of the grand army 
which we shall one day place in the field against 
the so-called grand army of Napoleon, and, when 
the call of ‘ Rally round the flag ! ’ resounds, he 
must take up the sword, and proudly feel that 
the holy vengeance of the fatherland is placed in 
his hands.” 

“ But suppose there is no one to utter the cry 
of ‘ Rally round the flag ! ’ how are the people to 
appear and take up arms ? ” 

“ We are there, and we shall exhort the people to 
arms ! ” said Schill, energetically. “ Henceforth, 
we must not wait until the generals call us ; we 
ourselves must be generals, and organize armies 
— every one after his own fashion — according 
to his influence. We must travel over the coun- 
try, and enlist recruits. As we have no standing 
army, we must form independent corps, and, by 
means of raids, harass and molest the enemy. 
The strongest lion succumbs when stung by many 
bees. Every Prussian must turn conspirator, and 
prevail on his neighbor to join the great con- 
spiracy ; secret leagues and clubs must be insti- 
tuted everywhere, and work and agitate until we 
are united like one man, and, with the resistless 
power of our holy wrath, expel the tyrant who en- 
slaves us ! ” 

“Yes, you are right; we must not give way to 
timid despondency, but hope and dare every 
thing. Every one must become a general, and 
enlist troops, to attack the enemy whenever and 
wherever he can ! ” 

“ I shall also enlist my troops, and lead them 
against the enemy,” exclaimed Staps, with spark- 
ling eyes. “ But my troops will not be made of 
flesh and blood. They will be the songs I sing, 
and one day I shall march out with them, and 
challenge the tyrant to mortal combat ! Yes, 
you are right in saying, ‘Every one must fight af- 
ter his own fashion, and according to his power 
and influence ; ’ let me fight, too, after my fash- 
ion ! ” 

“ Go and fight, and may the blessings of all the 
brave follow you ! ” said Schill, placing his hand 
on the head of the youth. “ Let us take here, 
under the German oak, a solemn oath that we 
will devote our fortunes, our lives, and our sacred 
honor, to the fatherland ! ” 

“ Yes,” exclaimed Piickler and Staps, “we will 
take that oath I ” 


• THE OATH OF YENGEAKCE. 


15 


“ Let us,” said Schill, “ then swear to strive for 
nothing but to deliver Germany from the grasp of 
the tyrant.” 

“We swear,” continued Schill, “to regard our- 
selves from this hour as soldiers of the grand 
army one day to battle for our liberties — to leave 
nothing undone in enlisting fresh troops — that 
our life shall be nothing but an inexorable and 
never-flagging struggle against the usurper— that 
we will rather die than submit. We vow ven- 
geance against him, and deliverance to the father- 
land ! ” 

When all had repeated this oath, Schill said, 
solemnly, “ The German oak has heard our words, 
and they are registered on high ; now, my friends, 
let us go and enter into a new life — a new future. 
Let us take care of the body, in order to impart 
strength to the mind to carry out its schemes. 
Come, let us go ! ” 

They passed on, and soon reached the village, 
guided by Staps to the parsonage. 

The clergyman joyfully received the officers ; 
his wife prepared her best rooms for them, and 
pledged herself, like her husband, to protect them 
at the risk of her life, if French soldiers should 
arrive, and search the house for wounded Prussians. 

“Now you are safe, and I can go,” said Fred- 
erick Staps, when he was again alone with his 
friends, their host having withdrawn to prepare 
every thing that was necessary for the comfort of 
his guests. “ I cannot stay here any longer, for 
I have promised my father to proceed without 
delay to Leipsic, and I must keep my pledge to 
him, as I shall keep it to you. Farewell, friends ; 
may God protect you, and may your deeds fill the 
world with your glory, so that the poor merchant’s 
apprentice in Leipsic may also hear of it ! ” 

“ The poor merchant’s apprentice is also a sol- 
dier of our grand army of the future,” said Schill ; 
“we have enlisted him, and he will go and fulfil 
bis duty to his fatherland.” 

“Yes, you may depend on it, he will do his 
duty,” exclaimed Staps, “and you will hear of 
him one day. Farewell, and, please God ! we 
shall meet again ! ” 

“ Yes, we shall meet again,” said the two offi- 
cers, cordially shaking hands with the youth, and 
taking leave of him. 

Staps left the room hastily. When he turned 
round once more at the door, and greeted the 
friends with a nod, they saw that his eyes were 
filled with tears. 

The clergyman’s wife now entered to serve up 
the dinner she herself bad prepared, and there 
was added a bottle of old Hock from the wine- 
cellar. 


“In the first place, however,” said the clergy- 
man to Schill, “ I must see and dress your arm, 
sir ; I am quite experienced in dressing wounds, 
having taken lessons in surgery in order to assist 
our poor peasants in case of injuries, and render 
it unnecessary for them to pay large doctors’ 
bills. Let me, therefore, be your surgeon, too. ” 

Schill gratefully accepted his kind offer, and 
after his wife had brought every thing necessary 
for dressing a wound, the clergyman examined 
Schill’s arm, and removed the coagulated blood 
from it. 

“ It is a very deep flesh-wound,” he said, “ for- 
tunately Hie bone is uninjured.” 

“Then I shall soon be able to use my arm 
again ? ” asked Schill, joyfully. 

“ Not for a few weeks yet, unless you wish to 
run the risk of losing it entirely. Mortification 
might set in after the wound has commenced ul- 
cerating. Hence, you must be very cautious, and 
live as quietly as possible. Your hands are now 
already burning, and your fever will be very 
severe. Unfortunately, I have brought up my wine 
in vain. Both of you, gentlemen, will not be able 
to drink it to-day, nor to-morrow, nor the day 
after to-morrow either. For the first three days 
your fever, as I stated already, will be very 
serious.” 

This prediction was fulfilled. For three days 
the officers were unable to rise from their couch. 
They were delirious, and unaware of the danger 
menacing them. A French regiment had come to 
the village to spend the night, and four of its 
officers established their headquarters at the par- 
sonage. 

But as soon as the French troops had been de- 
scried in the neighborhood of the village, the cler- 
gyman, assisted by his wife and servants, had re- 
moved the wounded, and prepared a safe refuge for 
them in the hay-loft of his barn, far from the dwell- 
ing-house. He himself remained with them, and, 
while his wife received the French officers, and 
informed them that her husband was not at home, 
the good old man was sitting in the hay-loft 
beside his guests, nursing them with the kind- 
ness of a father and the skill of an experienced 
physician. He had locked the door of his asy- 
lum, and a loaded gun and unsheathed sword 
were within his reach, in order forcibly to drive 
back the French, in case they should try to pene- 
trate into this hiding-place. 

But the danger passed, and the fqver abated. 
Four days afterward the two Pru^ians were 
strong enough to continue their journey. Tho 
clergyman himself drove them in his carriage to 
the neighboring town, where they bought two 


16 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


horses and departed — not together, however, but 
by different routes. Count Piickler took the road 
to Breslau ; Ferdinand von Schill turned toward 
Kolberg. 

Before parting, they cordially shook hands once 
more. 

“ Let us remember the oath under the German 
oak,” said Schill. 

“Yes,” replied Piickler. “We shall not desert 
the fatherland, but serve it with our whole 
strength, and after that is exhausted, we know 
how to die.” 

■ ♦ 

CEAPTEE lY. 

IN BERLIN. 

The utmost uneasiness and suspense prevailed 
in Berlin. Several rumors had already reached the 
capital. It was reported that, on the 14th of 
October, a battle had taken place between the 
Prussians and French forces. To-day was the 
18th, and no news had been received ; noth- 
ing definite was known about the result of the 
battle. But the people said, if it had been favor- 
able to the Prussians, the couriers, to whom joy 
would have lent wings, would have reached the 
capital long since ; and this continued silence and 
incertitude seemed to the inhabitants of Berlin 
more discouraging than any positive intelligence, 
however disastrous it might be. 

No one had the heart to work longer — no one 
could be prevailed upon to follow his usual avoca- 
tion; all felt paralyzed by a secret terror; and 
hastened into the street, as though they hoped 
some decisive news would fly through the air and 
put an end to this dreadful suspense. 

All Berlin seemed to have met in the streets 
on the morning of this 18th October, and the 
people hastened in vast crowds toward the house 
of the governor of the capital ; they consisted to- 
day not only of the lower classes of society but 
the noblest and best had united with them. Men 
of mind and education, the representatives of art 
and science, were to be seen among them. There 
was no distinction of rank or position — every one 
felt that he was united with his fellow-citizens by 
the same care, anxiety, and affection ; every one 
knew that all the thousands surrounding him en- 
tertained the same wishes and apprehensions, and 
thus social distinctions were unnoticed. The high- 
born and the rich, the poor and the lowly, all felt 
only that they were Prussians — that they were 
Germans; all were animated by one desire; to 


learn what had been the result of the battle, and 
whether the Prussians, faithful to their ancient 
military glory, had defeated the enemy, or, like 
the other nations, succumbed to Napoleon. 

Thousands hastened, therefore, to the residence 
of the governor of Berlin, Count von Schulenburg, 
and called vociferously for him. When the count 
appeared on the balcony and asked what the 
crowd wanted, hundreds of voices shouted in 
thundering chorus: “We want to know whether 
the army has fought a battle, and whether it w'as 
defeated ! ” 

Count Schulenburg shrugged his shoulders, and 
amid the silence that ensued his ringing voice was 
heard to say : “ I have not yet received any defi- 
nite intelligence ; but so soon as I have it, I shall 
deem it incumbent upon me to communicate it to 
the citizens of Berlin.” 

The governor returned with tottering steps into 
his house. For a moment the people remained 
silent, and seemed still to listen to the words they 
had just heard ; but suddenly a loud, powerful 
voice shouted : “ If the governor does not know 
any thing, perhaps Professor Lange does. He has 
established a newspaper for the special purpose 
of communicating to us the latest news from the 
seat of war ; let us go to his house and ask him 
what the Telegraph says.” * 

“ Yes, yes, let us go to his house and ask him 
what the Telegraph says ! ” yelled the crowd. 
“Where does Professor Lange five? Who can 
guide us to him ? ” 

“ I can do so,” said the same voice that had 
spoken before. “Professor Lange lives at 22 
Leipsic Street.” 

“ Come, come, let us go to Professor Lange ! 
Let us hear what the Telegraph says ! ” shouted 
the crowd, and hastened across the Opera Place 
and Gensdarmes Market down Charlotte Street to 
the residence of the journalist. 

“The Telegraph! the Telegraph ! yelled the 
people. “We want to know what the Telegraph 
says ! Professor Lange, give us the news from 
the seat of war ! ” 

A window on the first floor was hastily opened, 
and the pale, frightened face of a gentleman 
looked out. “What do you want to see me 
for ? ” asked a tremulous and hollow voice. “ Why 
do you mention the Telegraph ? ” 

“We want news from the army! We want 


* The Telegraph was a journal founded by a certain 
Professor Lange, on the day when the Prussian army left 
Berlin, In his prospectus he spoke in the most fulsome 
terms of the “ invincible army of Frederick the Great,” 
and promised to publish always the latest news from the 
seat of war. 


rs BERLIN. 


17 


to know whether it is true that we have lost a 
battle ! ” 

“ God forbid ! ” said the gentleman at the win- 
dow. “ I have not received any news whatever 
for the last three days ; I know only one thing, 
and that is, that Cabinet Counsellor Lombard, 
who was at the headquarters of the army in Wei- 
mar, returned last night to Berlin, and is now at 
his residence. Counsellor Lombard, therefore 
would be the man to whom you ought to apply.” 

“ Lombard ! Lombard ! ” shouted the crowd, 
accompanying the name with bitter imprecations. 
When this name was heard, all faces turned 
gloomy, and every voice assumed an angry and 
threatening tone. 

“ Lombard is to blame for every thing ! ” grum- 
bled a few here and there, and “ Lombard is to 
blame for every thing ! ” was repeated louder and 
louder. The excitement was as when a storm, 
sweeping over the sea, lashes its waves, until, ris- 
ing higher and higher, they foam with fury. 

“ Lombard sides with the French 1 ” reiterated 
the surging mass. “ He has secretly informed the 
enemy of all the operations of our army, and if 
the Prussians are defeated, he will be glad of it. 
We will go to Lombard, and he must tell us all he 
knows. But woe to him if the news should be 
bad ! ” 

And the multitude with savage yells hastened 
down the street, back to the Linden, and toward 
the residence of Cabinet Counsellor Lombard. 

All the window-blinds of his house were closed, 
as they had been for the last two weeks, since 
this well-known favorite of Minister von Haug- 
witz had repaired to the headquarters of the army 
. at Weimar. But Professor Lange had stated, per- 
haps for the sole purpose of diverting the general 
attention from himself, and of directing it toward 
the unpopular cabinet counsellor, that Lombard 
had returned, and the people believed him. 

“Lombard! Lombard!” shouted hundreds of 
voices. Eyes which had hitherto looked only sad 
and anxious became threatening ; many a fist was 
lifted up to the closed windows, and many an im- 
precation uttered. 

“ If a disaster has taken place, it is Lombard’s 
fault,” cried one of the crowd. 

“ If it is his fault, he shall and must atone for 
it,” exclaimed another. 

“ He has no heart for Prussia’s honor,” said a 
third. “ He is a German-Frenchman, and would 
not object if the whole of Prussia should become 
a French province. If he knew how to do it, he 
certainly would not shrink from it, even should 
he bring captivity and distress upon the king and 
the queen ! ” 


“ He has already done much mischief,” shouted 
another. “ The Russian army which was to sup- 
port ours ought to have been here long ago, but 
he detained the dispatches in which the king in- 
formed the czar that our army had advanced 
against the French. It is his fault that the Rus- 
sians have not yet arrived.” 

“ It is his fault that the Russians have not yet 
arrived ! ” roared the wild chorus, and the furious 
men began to rush toward the house. Many 
armed themselves with stones, hurled them at the 
walls and broke the windows ; others commenced ’ 
striking with vigorous fists at the closed door. 

“Open the door! open the door! We want to 
see Lombard ! He shall account for what he has 
done!” exclaimed the enraged men. “Woe to 
him if it be true that we have lost a battle ! Woe 
to him if — ” 

“ Silence ! silence ! ” suddenly thundered a loud, 
imperious voice. “ See, there is a courier ! ” 

“A courier ! A courier !” and all rushed back 
from the house into the street ; every eye turned 
toward the horseman, who approached at full gal- 
lop. 

As if obeying a military command, the multi- 
tude made way for him, but at every step they 
closed behind him, and, pressing him on all sides, 
his progress was exceedingly slow. 

But the courier, with his gloomy mien and pale 
cheeks, looked like a bearer of bad news, and 
when the people had scanned his features, they 
murmured, “ He brings bad news ! A disaster is. 
written on his forehead ! ” 

“ Let me pass,” he said in an imploring voice ; 

“ in the name of the king, let me pass ! ” And as 
he spurred his horse, the bystanders fell back in 
alarm. 

“ ‘ In the name of the king ! ’ the king, then, 
is still alive ? ” 

“Yes, the king is alive!” replied the courier, 
sadly. “I have dispatches from him for the 
Governor of Berlin and Cabinet Counsellor Lom- 
bard.” 

“And what do these dispatches contain?” 
asked a thousand voices. 

“ I do not know, and even though I did, I am 
not at liberty to tell you. The governor will 
communicate the news to the inhabitants of Ber- 
lin.” 

“ Tell us the news ! ” demanded the people. 

“I cannot do so; and, moreover, I do not 
know any thing about it,” replied the courier, 
who had now reached Lombard’s house, and 
whose horse was again so closely surrounded 
that it was scarcely able to move its feet. 

“ Bo not detain me, my friends, I beseech you 


2 


18 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


— let me dismount here,” said the courier. “ I 
must deliver my dispatches to Cabinet Counsellor 
Lombard.” 

“ Oh, let him deliver his dispatches. We can 
afterward compel M. Lombard to communicate 
their contents.” 

“ Yes ; let him deliver his dispatches,” said 
all ; “ Lombard shall presently tell us what they 
contain.” 

The crowd stood back on both sides of the 
door, and busy hands were ready to assist the 
rider in dismounting. But before he had been 
able to do so, a voice from the rear was heard : 
“ Ask him first where the queen is at present ! ” 

“ Yes, yes, where is the queen ? where is the 
queen ? ” 

“ The queen ? ” said he. “ I passed her fifteen 
.minutes ago near the city and delivered dispatches 
to her, too. The queen ? Look there ! ” And he 
pointed to the Brandenburg gate. 

A carriage, drawn by six horses, was seen rap- 
idly approaching. 

“ The queen ! It is the queen ! ” joyfully 
shouted every one, and the thousands w'ho had 
been a moment before so anxious to learn the 
news, and to call Lombard to account, rushed 
toward the carriage. Meantime the courier, 
whose presence seemed to be entirely forgotten, 
dismounted, and rapped softly at the door. It 
was at once opened in a cautious manner, and 
a voice whispered: “Take your horse into the 
house. You can afterward ride through the 
garden, and out of the back gate to the governor’s 
residence.” 

The door was hastily thrown open, and closed 
as soon as the courier had entered with his horse. 
No notice was taken of this movement, for every 
one thought only of the queen, and looked anx- 
iously through the closed coach windows. 

“ The queen ! It is the queen ! ” exclaimed 
the people, greeting the beloved lady in the most 
rapturous manner. All arms were raised in sign 
of respect, and every voice uttered a welcome of 
“ Long live the queen ! ” 

The carriage window was lowered, and Louisa’s 
beautiful face appeared ; but she looked pale 
and afiiicted ; her eyes, generally so radiant, 
seemed dimmed and tearful; yet she tried to 
smile, and bowed repeatedly to her enthusiastic 
friends, who rushed impetuously toward her, and, 
in their exultation, forgetful of the rules of eti- 
quette, seized the reins and stopped the horses. 

“We want to see our queen ! Long live our 
Queen Louisa ! ” cried thousands of voices. Those 
who stood nearest the carriage, and beheld her 
countenance, fell on their knees in the fervor of 


their love, and eyes that never before had wept 
were filled with tears ; for she seemed as an angel 
of sorrow and suffering. She rose, and, leaning 
out of the coach door, returned the affectionate 
greetings of her faithful subjects, and, weeping, 
stretched out her arms as if to bless them. 

“ Long live the queen ! Long live Louisa ! ” 
they cried, and those who held the horses, in or- 
der to stop the carriage, dropped the reins, rushed 
toward the coach door, threw up their hats, and 
joined in the welcome cry. The coachman, prof- 
iting by this movement, drove onward. The peo- 
ple, whose desire had been satisfied in having 
seen their queen, no longer resisted, and permitted 
the carriage to roll away. 

Louisa closed her coach window, and, sinking 
back upon the cushions, exclaimed in a heart-rend- 
ing tone, “ Alas ! it is perhaps the last time that 
they thus salute me ! Soon, perhaps, I shall be 
no longer Queen of Prussia ! ” She buried her 
face in her hands, and sobbed aloud. 

“ Do not weep,” whispered Madame von Berg, 
the Queen’s intimate friend, who was sitting by 
her side, “ do not weep. It may be a dispensa- 
tion of Providence that the crown shall fall from 
your head for a moment, but He will replace 
it more firmly, and one day you will again be 
happy.” 

“ Oh, it is not for the sake of my own majesty, 
and for my little worldly splendor, that I am lament- 
ing at this moment,” said the queen, removing 
her hands from her face. “ I should gladly plunge 
into obscurity and death if my husband and my 
children were exempted from humiliation, and if 
these good people, who love me, and are attached 
to their king, should not be compelled to recog- 
nize a foreigner as their master, and bow to 
him ! ” 

“ Even though the people should be subjugated 
at present,” said Madame von Berg, solemnly, 

‘ ‘ they will rise one day and avenge their dis- 
grace ! ” 

“Would you were a true prophetess!” ex- 
claimed Louisa. “I hope the people will re- 
main faithful to us in adversity, and never forget 
iheir love for their king ! Yes, I will hope for 
that day, and pray that it may come speedily. I 
will weep no more ; but remember that I am a 
mother, and shall see my children again-^not to 
leave them, but to hasten with them to my hus- 
band, who is waiting for me at Kiistrin. In half 
an hour we must continue our journey.” 

Just then the carriage drove past the main 
guard-house. The soldiers presented arms, and 
the drums beat. 

A melancholy smile overspread the queen’s 


QUIET IS THE CITIZEN’S FIKST DUTY. 


19 


features. “ Do you remember what Prince Louis 
Ferdinand said to his mother, on the eve of his 
departure to the army ? ” she asked in a low 
voice. 

“ No, your majesty, I do not remember, and it 
is possible that I never heard of it.” 

“ The princess believed a defeat of our army to 
be utterly impossible,” said the queen. “She 
thought Prussia was so strong a bulwark that the 
proud assault of the French empire would be in 
vain. ‘ You are mistaken,’ exclaimed Prince Louis 
Ferdinand; ‘you think nothing will change, and 
the drums will always be beaten when you ride 
out at the gate ? On. the contrary, I tell you, 
mamma, one day you will ride out of the gate, and 
no drums will be beaten ! ’ The same will happen 
to us, my dear — we will often ride out of the gate, 
and no drums will be beaten. But here is our 
house, and I must hide my tears. I will show a 
smiling face to my children.” 

The queen’s carriage stopped for the first time 
at the door-steps of the palace without meeting 
there the ladies and gentlemen of the court, the 
high dignitaries and functionaries who had for- 
merly never failed to wait on her. She had come 
without being expected, but on this ‘day of anx- 
iety and terror the announcement of her arrival 
would have made no difference; for every one 
thought only of himself, and was occupied with 
his own safety. Only a few faithful servants, 
therefore, received her, and bade her welcome 
with tearful eyes. 

“ Where are my children ? ” exclaimed the 
queen, anxiously. “Why are they not here to 
receive their mother? ” 

“Your majesty,” said the palace-steward, in a 
low voice, “ a courier, sent hither by the king, ar- 
rived last night, unfortunately having failed to 
meet with your majesty on the road. The royal 
princes and princesses set out two hours ago to 
Stettin, and thence to Grandenz. Such were his 
majesty’s orders.” 

The queen suppressed the cry of pain which 
rose to her lips, but a deadly pallor overspread her 
cheeks. “ In half an hour I shall set out,” she 
said faintly. “ Pack up only the most indispen- 
sable articles for me ; in half an hour I must be 
ready to enter my carriage. I shall, perhaps, over- 
take my children in Stettin.” And she retired to 
her room, struggling to conceal the emotions that 
so violently agitated her. 

♦ — 


CHAPTER Y. 

QUIET IS THE CITIZEN’S FIKST DUTY. 

The people in the mean time, gathering in still 
greater numbers in the broad street under the 
Linden, returned to the house of Lombard, and 
saw, to their great disappointment, that the 
courier was no longer there. 

“ Now, we want to know the news contained in 
the dispatches, and Counsellor Lombard must fell 
us,” shouted one of the men standing in front of 
the house; he then commenced hammering the 
door with his powerful fists. Others joined him, 
and to the measure of this threatening music the 
crowd yelled, “ The dispatches ! the dispatches ! 
Lombard must come out ! He must tell us what 
the dispatches contain ! We want to know 
whether our army has been defeated, or has won 
the battle ! ” 

When no voice replied, nor door nor window 
opened, the mob, whose anger grew more mena- 
cing, seized once more their former weapons, the 
stones, and hurled them at the house. “ He shall 
not escape from us ! We will stay here until he 
makes his appearance, and replies to our ques- 
tions ! ” they cried. “ If he do not come to us, we 
will go to him and compel him to hear us ! ” 

“ Fortunately, you will not find him at home,” 
whispered Lombard, who was listening at the 
door. “Every thing is in good order,” he added 
in a low voice. “ The dear enraged people will 
have to hammer a good while before breaking 
these bolts. By that time I shall be far from 
here, on the road to Stettin.” 

The cabinet counsellor glided away with a sar- 
castic smile to the back gate. There stood his 
wife, weeping piteously and wringing her hands. 

M. Lombard, who had hitherto only smiled, 
now laughed outright. “ Truly,” he said, “ it is 
really worth while to make a scene in consequence 
of this demonstration of the people ! My dear; I 
should think our family ought to know how to 
manage them ! Your father has shaved those 
stupid fiends often enough, and my father pulled 
tl'.e wool over their eyes,* and, as good children 
of our parents, we ought to do so too.” 

“ Oh, Lombard, just listen,” wailed his wife, 
“they are knocking at the door with heavy clubs; 
we must perish if they succeed in forcing it open 


* Lombard’s father was a hair-dresser, and his wife’s 
father a barber. Lombard liked to jest about his descent, 
particularly at the dinner-table of some prince or min- 
ister. He always alluded to his father in the following 
terms: ''‘Feu monpere de poudreuse memoim /” 


20 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


and entering the house. They will assassinate 
you, for you have heard their imprecations against 
you.” 

“ Ma cliere^' said Lombard, composedly, “ this 
is not the first time that I discover that the 
people despise and persecute me. I knew it long 
ago. These blockheads will never forgive me for 
being a Frenchman, and for having, consequently, 
a predilection for France and her heroic emperor. 
And not only they, but the so-called educated and 
high-born classes also, hate me intensely. Through- 
out all Europe I have been branded as a traitor 
in the pay of Napoleon. Conspiracies were got 
up everywhere to bring about my removal. All 
the princes of the royal house — nay, the queen 
herself, united against me,* But you see, my 
dear, they did not succeed after all in undermin- 
ing my position, and the howling rabble outside 
will have no better success. Indeed, the fellows 
seem to be in earnest. Their blows shake the 
whole house ! ” 

“ They will succeed in breaking in,” said his 
wife, anxiously ; “and then they will assassinate 
all of us.” 

“ They will do no such thing, for they do not 
come for spoils, but only for news,” said Lombard. 
“ And then, my love, they know just as well as 
I the German maxim : ‘ The people of Nurem- 
berg do not hang anybody unless they have got 
him ! ’ But they will not get me, for there comes 
my faithful Jean across the yard. — Well, Jean, is 
every thing ready ? ” he said to the approaching 
footman. 

“Yes,” he replied. “The carriage with four 
excellent horses is waiting for you, sir. I or- 
dered it, however, not to stop at the garden 
gate, but a little farther down, in front of another 
house.” 

“ That was well done, my sagacious Jean. But 
I hope you did not forget either to place several 
bottles of Tokay wine and some roast fowl in 
the carriage for me? The ill-mannered rabble 
outside will not permit me to-day to lunch at 
home. Hence I must make up my mind to do so 
on the road.” 

“ I have not forgotten the wine nor the roast 
pheasant, your excellency.” 

“ You have packed up a pheasant ! ” exclaimed 
Lombard. If the noisy gentlemen outside there 
knew that, they would be sure to assert that the 
Emperor Napoleon had sent it to me as a bribe. 
Now, Jean, come, we will set out. The street is 
quiet, I suppose ? ” 


♦ Lombard’s own words. — Vide Gentz’s Diary in his 
‘ Miscellanies,” edited by G. Schlesier, voL iv. 


“Perfectly so. All those who have legs have 
gathered in front of the house.” 

“ And all those who have fists are hammering 
at the door,” wailed Mde. Lombard. “ Make 
haste, Lombard — make haste, lest it be too 
late!” 

“You are right. I must go,” said Lombard, 
quietly. “ Now listen to what I am going to tell 
you. So soon as you hear my carriage roll away, 
be kind enough to repair to the balcony of the 
first floor and address the people. Their surprise 
at seeing you will cause them to be silent for a 
moment.” 

“ But, good Heaven ! what am I to say to 
them ? ” asked Mde. Lombard, in dismay. 

“You are to say to them, ‘ My husband, Cabi- 
net-Counsellor Lombard, is not at home. He has 
gone to the governor of Berlin, Count von Schu- 
lenburg-Kehnert, and the bearer of dispatches 
has accompanied him.’ Your words will have the 
same effect as though a pistol were discharged 
among a number of sparrows — all of them will 
fly away. You see, my dear, there is a very im- 
pressive and dramatic scene in store for you, and 
my father, de poiidrmse memoire, and your father, 
the barber, would rejoice in their graves if they 
could see you haranguing the people from the 
balcony. Farewell, my dear, and manage the af- 
fair as skilfully as possible.” 

He embraced her hurriedly, and was about to 
leave the garden, leaning on his servant’s arm, 
and as fast as his gouty feet would permit it ; but 
his wife suddenly held him back. 

“ I cannot go to the parlor,” she said in terror, 
convulsively clinging to Lombard. “ Remember, 

, that they are continually hurling stones at our 
house. Suppose a stone should be thrown into 
the window and strike my head ? ” 

“ My dear,” said Lombard, laughing, “I do not 
believe any stone passing through the window/ 
\^ould be immediately dangerous, for you have a 
hard head, as I have found out often enough. 
Farewell, and do as I have told you, unless you 
want the rabble to penetrate into your room. 
Farewell I ” 

He disengaged himself rather roughly, and hast- 
ened, as fast as his aching and stiffened feet would 
permit, to the street contiguous to the garden. 

His wife waited until the departure of the car- 
riage announced to her that her husband had gone. 
At the same time the voices outside shouted with 
redoubled fury, “Lombardi We want to see 
Lombard 1 ” And their blows thundered louder 
than ever at the door. 

Mde. Lombard sighed ; and, commending her 
body and soul to God, she proceeded to comply 


QUIET IS TEE CITIZEN’S FIRST DUTY. 


21 


with her husband’s instructions, and went to the 
balcony. 

Lombard had prophesied correctly ; profound 
silence ensued when the wife of the cabinet coun- 
sellor appeared ; hence, every one was able to 
understand her words, and no sooner had she ut- 
tered them, than' the crowd really dispersed, as her 
husband had told her. 

“ To the governor ! Let us go to the govern- 
or ! ” they cried, as they moved up the Linden ; 
but they were attracted by a carriage, drawn by 
six fiery horses at full gallop. It was the queen, 
who was about to leave the capital. She looked 
even paler and sadder than before, and greeted 
her friends on both sides with a heart-rending, 
melancholy smile. But they had not time to 
greet even the queen, or to be surprised at her 
speedy departure, as they rushed toward the house 
of the governor. Count Schulenburg. 

At his residence, also, the windows were covered 
up, and the gate of the court-yard closed. But a 
large white handbill, containing a few lines in 
gigantic letters, was posted on the side wall. 
Thousands of piercing eyes were fixed on the 
paper, and an imperious demand was made to the 
fortunate men who stood closest to the handbill : 
“ Read ! Read aloud ! ” 

“ I will read it ! ” answered a loud, powerful 
voice. “ Be quiet, so as to be able to hear me ! ” 

Profound silence reigned immediately, an d every 
one heard distinctly the words, which ran as fol- 
lows : 

“ Tlie Icing has lost a battle. Quiet is the citizen's 
first duty. I request all the inhabitants of Berlin 
to maintain good order. The king and his brothers 
are alive." 

The vast multitude burst into a wail of despair ; 
and when silence ensued, every one seemed para- 
lyzed and stared mournfully at his neighbor. Sud- 
denly the side-gate of the count’s court-yard open- 
ed, and a carriage, followed by a large baggage- 
wagon, made its appearance. 

At first, the people timidly stepped back, and 
looked on wonderingly. But no sooner had they 
recognized in it the governor of Berlin, Count von 
Schulenburg-Kehnert — no sooner had they dis- 
covered that his carriage contained a large num- 
ber of trunks and boxes, and that the wagon was 
also filled with baggage, and had satisfied them- 
selves that the governor intended to leave the 
capital at this hour of terror, than attempts were 
made to prevent him from setting out. The peo- 
ple stopped the horses, and cried, in tones of exas- 
peration, that it did not behoove the governor to 
leave the city while it was in danger, and the in- 
habitants without advice and protection. 


Count Schulenburg rose in his carriage. Stretch- 
ing out his arms in an imperious manner, he de- 
manded silence. When the clamor had ceased, he 
said, in a conciliatory tone : “ My friends ! duty 
calls me hence, for the orders of the king must be 
obeyed. But you shall not say that I have left 
the city of Berlin without adequate protection, and 
that I did not devote my particular attention to its 
welfare. I have appointed my son-in-law, the 
Prince von Hatzfeld, civil governor, and he will 
zealously provide for the security and interests of 
the people of the capital. Forward, coachman ! ” 

The coachman was about to comply with his 
master’s orders, but some of the crowd still dared 
to resist, and refused to let the horses proceed. 

“ The governor must stay here ! ” they shouted ; 
“ it is incumbent on him not to desert the inhab- 
itants of Berlin, but to assist them in the hour of 
danger ! ” 

“ In the hour of danger ? ” asked the count, with 
a wondering air. “ Why, Heave my whole family 
here — my children and grandchildren ! W ould I 
do So if the enemy threatened the city ? ” 

No one could combat this argument, and reply 
to the governor’s question. The men, therefore, 
dropped the reins and fell back, when the coach- 
man whipped the horses into a gallop. 

They gazed after the escaping count, and looked 
sadly at each other, asking anxiously : “ What 
shall we do now ? What shall we do when the 
French come ? ” 

“We will meet them sword in hand and drive 
them back ! ” exclaimed a young man, with a noble 
face. 

“ Yes, we will do so,” said another. “ There are 
no soldiers here ; hence we ourselves must look 
out for our own defence. We will form volun- 
teer companies, occupy the gates, and patrol the 
streets.” 

“ Our army being defeated, a new one has, of 
course, to be organized,” said another. “ We 
must do this ; we must hand in our names, and 
enlist. Let every one who thinks and feels like 
myself, follow me to the new governor. We will 
apply to him for permission to organize our- 
selves for the defence of the city. Come ! ” Many 
hastened with ardent impetuosity from all parts of 
the crowd to join him. Others, seized with ad- 
miration and respect, opened a passage, through 
which the quickly-gathered company of more than 
three hundred young men marched to the resi- 
dence of the Prince von Hatzfeld. 

But he did not admit the deputation of these 
brave men. He sent word to them, by his ad- 
jutant, that they would receive his definite reply 
at a later hour. At present he wished them to 


22 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


go home, and avoid, above all, any riotous pro- 
ceedings in the streets. 

The reply which the Prince von Hatzfeld had 
promised to the deputation soon appeared on 
handbills posted at all the street corners. It was 
as follows: “It would be improper to conceal 
from the inhabitants of Berlin that French troops 
may shortly occupy the capital. This unexpected 
event cannot fail to produce a most painful im- 
pression among all classes. Only the most im- 
plicit confidence in those who take upon them- 
selves the arduous task of alleviating the inevita- 
ble consequences of such an event, as well as of 
maintaining order, which has become more desi- 
rable than ever, will be able to avert the terrible 
fate which the slightest resistance, or any dis- 
orderly conduct, would bring upon the city. The 
course recently pursued by the inhabitants~of 
Vienna, under similar distressing circumstances, 
must have taught those of Berlin that the con- 
queror only respects quiet and manly resignation 
after such a defeat. Hence I forbid all gatherings 
and clamor in the streets, as well as any public 
manifestation of sympathy in relation to the ru- 
mors from the seat of war. For quiet submission 
is our first duty ; we should only think of what is 
going on within our own walls ; it is the highest 
interest to which we ought to devote our whole 
attention.” 


OHAPTEE VI. 

THE FAITHFUL PEOPLE OF STETTIN. 

The hope of the queen had not been fulfilled. 
Her children had left Stettin an hour before she 
reached the city. 

“I shall immediately continue my journey,” 
said she, resolutely. 

“ Your majesty, I beseech you to remain here,” 
said Madame von Berg. “You have scarcely had 
any sleep for the last three nights ; last night you 
did not leave the carriage at all, and hardly took 
any food. Oh, think of the king, of your chil- 
dren, and economize your strength ! Take some 
rest.” 

“ Best ! ” repeated the queen, with a melancholy 
smile. “ There will be, perhaps, no more rest 
Ibr me on earth ! My heart is filled with grief — 
how, then, can I sleep ? But you have reminded 
me of my husband, of my children, and you are 
right; I must live for them. Therefore, I will 
stop here for an hour, and take some refreshment, 
iri order not to give way under the burden weigh- 


ing down my mind. Come, we will alight and go 
into the house.” 

Madame von Berg made a sign to the footman 
to open the coach door, and followed Louisa into 
the royal villa, to the rooms usually occupied by 
their majesties during their visits to Stettin. 
“ When I was last in this room,” whispered the 
queen, “ the king and the crown prince were with 
me. There was nothing but joy in my heart. I 
was a happy wife, a happy mother, and a happy 
queen ! And, to-day, what am I ? ” She heaved 
a profound sigh, and, sinking down on the sofa, 
pressed her face upon the cushions. “ Into what 
an abyss I have been hurled from my heaven ! ” 
she murmured in a low voice. “ Once a happy 
sovereign — now a poor, fleeing woman, who can 
excite only pity. Oh, mother, mother, God be 
praised that you do not behold my distress ! ” She 
clasped her hands, and her trembling lips whis- 
pered prayers to Heaven. Her large blue eyes 
were raised with an expression of fervent suppli- 
cation, and tears rolled like pearls over her 
cheeks. She sat a long while pondering over her 
misfortunes, and shuddering at the prospects of 
the future. 

Finally, Madame von Berg ventured to ap- 
proach and arouse her from her meditation. 

“ Your majesty,” she said, in an imploring 
voice, “you promised to take rest, for the sake 
of the king and of your children. Remember the 
burden of care weighing down the heart of his 
majesty. Remember that his grief would be 
more intense if he should see your eyes reddened 
with weeping, and find you prostrated in your dis- 
tress.” 

“ He shall not see it,” said Louisa. “ In his 
presence I will conceal my tears, and seem hope- 
ful and courageous. Let me, therefore, now at 
least, pour out my overwhelming sorrow, for tears 
are the only consolation of the afiiicted. When I 
am with my husband once more, I shall try to 
smile, and only weep in secret. Are you now satis- 
fied, my faithful friend ? ” 

“ Your majesty had graciously promised me to 
take some refreshment, but the footman has Iona 
since announced that dinner is ready.” 

“ Come, Caroline, we will eat,” said the queen, 
rising hastily, and laying her hand on her friend’s 
shoulder. 

She kept her word, and did eat a little, try- 
ing to become more cheerful by conversing with 
Madame von Berg about her children and her ap- 
proaching reunion with her husband. 

“ Believe me, Caroline,” she then said gravely, 
“ it is not vanity and longing for worldly splendor 
that causes me to bewail our present trouble. For 


THE FAITHFUL PEOPLE OF STETTIN. 


23 


my part, I would gladly lead a private life, and be 
contented in retirement and obscurity, if I could 
only see my husband and my children happy at 
my side. But the king is not allowed to be as' 
other men are — merely a husband and father ; he 
must think of his people, of his state, and of his 
royal duties. He is not at liberty to lay down his 
crown any more than we to destroy voluntarily 
the life we have received from God. ‘With it 
or on it,’ said the heroic mothers of Sparta to 
their sons, when delivering to them the shield 
with which they went into battle. And thus the 
king’s ancestors, who have bequeathed the crown 
to him, call from their graves : ‘ With it, or 
buried under it!’ It is the inheritance of his 
fathers, which he must leave to his children ; he 
must fight for it, and either triumph or perish 
with it. That is the reason why I weep, and see 
nothing but years of disaster and bloodshed in 
store for me. Prussia must not make peace with 
Napoleon ; she must not, in hypocritical friend- 
ship, give her hand to him who is her mortal 
enemy. She must remain faithful to the alliance 
which her king has sworn on the coffin of Fred- 
erick the Great to maintain ; and France will re- 
sent this constancy as though it were a crime. 
But, in spite of her anger, we must not recede ; 
we must advance on our path if we do not wish to 
lose also our honor, and if history is not to men- 
tion the name of Frederick William III. in terms 
of reproach. Germany hopes that Prussia will 
save her — the whole of Europe expects us to do 
our duty to the fatherland, and this duty is to wage 
war against the tyrant who wants to subjugate 
Germany, and transform her into a French prov- 
ince — to resist him as long as we have an inch of 
territory or a drop of blood in our veins 1 See, 
my friends, such are the thoughts that move my 
heart so profoundly, and cause me to weep. I 
clearly foresee the great misfortunes that will 
crush us in case we should proceed on the path 
which we have entered, but I am not allowed to 
wish that Prussia should turn back, for we may be 
permitted to be unfortunate, but never to act dis- 
honorably. And I know these to be the king’s 
views, too — he — but hark, what is that?” she 
interrupted herself. “Did it not sound as if a 
noisy crowd were approaching? The tumult 
draws nearer and nearer! If they are French 
soldiers, I am lost ! ” She rushed to the window, 
and looked anxiously down on the street. 

A vast multitude approached, yelling with rage, 
and threatening with their hands a pale, trem- 
bling man walking between two others who had 
seized him, and whose eyes closely watched every 
motion he made. That man was Cabinet-Coun- 


sellor Lombard, who, on his escape from Berlin, 
had safely reached Stettin. 

Just as he was about entering his carriage, in 
order to leave the latter city, a few of the by- 
standers recognized and detained him. Those 
who were in the streets soon gathered around 
and curiously looked an during his altercation 
with the men who had stopped him. 

Suddenly one of them turned to the crowd and 
exclaimed in a loud voice ; “ Do not permit this 
fellow to depart. It is Lombard, the Frenchman, 
the traitor ; he has assuredly come to Stettin in 
order to prevent the queen from continuing her 
journey, or to inform the enemy whither she is 
going. Let us arrest him, that he may not betray 
her ! ” 

“ Yes, yes, arrest him ; do not release him until 
long after the queen’s departure,” cried the peo- 
ple. Threatening men surrounded the traitor on 
all sides, and anxiously scanned his pale, cowardly 
face, 

“ Let me go, kind friends, let me go ! ” begged 
Lombard, and now all his arrogance and haughti- 
ness had disappeared. “You do me the greatest 
injustice ; I am a faithful servant of the king, and 
have come to Stettin in order to wait on her ma- 
jesty, and to offer my services to her.” 

“ He lies ! he lies ! ” said those who had recog- 
nized him. “Let us go with him to the royal 
villa ; the queen is there. If she wants to see 
him, she will order him to be admitted ; if not, he 
shall witness her departure.” 

“Yes, he shall witness her departure,” ex- 
claimed the rest approvingly ; “ let us go to the 
royal villa ! ” 

Dragged, pushed, and carried along, Lombard 
arrived, followed by thousands, at the royal res- 
idence, which was situated at the lower end of 
Broad Street, near the parade-grounds. 

The carriage and horses stood in front of the 
house, and every thing was ready for the queen’s 
departure. But Louisa was still at the Window, 
and looked from behind the curtains down on the 
vast mass which filled the whole street. Sud- 
denly she uttered a low cry ; and hastily placing 
her hand on her friend’s shoulder, she pointed to 
the street. “Look,” she whispered, trembling, 
“look! there is the evil demon who has done 
so much to bring about the present calamities of 
our country ; it is Lombard, my most dangerous, 
nay, I may say, my only enemy ! He hates me, 
because he knows that I distrusted him, and asked 
the king for his dismission. He has dealt treach- 
erously with Prussia — I know and feel it, and felt 
convinced of it long before this time. The pres- 
ence of this man proves tliat some new calamitv 


24 


XAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


is menacing me, for he is plotting my ruin. I 
wonder what brought him here ? ” 

“ Let me go ! ” cried Lombard just then, in a 
loud and ringing voice. “ Let me go ! I will and 
must see the queen ! ” 

“ See me ? ” said Louisa, in terror. “ No, I 
will not see him; I have nothing to do with 
him.” 

In her excitement, and anxious to see what 
would occur, she came forth from behind the cur- 
tain, and appeared in full view at the window. 
The people greeted her with loud cheers, and then 
turned their eyes again toward Lombard. He had 
also seen her, and now raised his hands in a sup- 
pliant manner, saying: “Oh, I beseech your ma- 
jesty, call me up to your room ! I have come to 
offer my services and to communicate important 
news. Grant me an audience ! ” 

But she did not stir ; she had apparently not 
heard his words, and her eyes, usually so gentle, 
now looked gloomy and angry. 

“The queen does not call him!” exclaimed 
hundreds of voices on the street. “ She does not 
want to have any thing to do with him I He is a 
traitor.” 

“ What have I done, then, kind friends, that 
you should call me a traitor?” asked Lombard. 
“ State the crimes you charge me wdth, so that I 
may justify myself ! ” 

“ We will state them to you ! ” said the men 
who had detained him, and who were wealthy 
and highly-esteemed merchants of Stettin. 

“ Yes, yes, Mr. Grunert and Mr. Pufahl, state 
his crimes to him, and prove to him that he is a 
traitor 1 ” 

“We will; be quiet and listen!” replied Mr. 
Grunert. 

“ The people are going to sit in solemn judg- 
ment over him,” whispered the queen ; “ they 
will ferret out his crimes and punish him for 
them ! ” 

Breathless silence reigned now. A chair was 
brought from one of the adjoining houses, and 
Lombard compelled to mount it, so that every one 
might be able to see him. It was a strange sight 
that of his tottering, feeble form, with a pale and 
terror-stricken face, rising above the crowd, whose 
eyes were all turned tow'ard him, and who cast 
glances like daggers at him. 

“ He is a traitor, and I will prove it to him,” 
repeated Mr. Grunert, closely approaching Lom- 
bard. “In 1803, when the king sent him to 
Brussels to negotiate with Bonaparte, about an 
honorable peace between Prussia and France, he 
allowed himself to be bribed. He exercised an 
influence humiliating and disadvantageous to us ; 


but Bonaparte bribed him by paying him the sum 
of six thousand Napoleons dlor. Deny it if you 
can ! ” 

“ I deny it,” replied Lombard. “ It is true, I 
suffered myself to be duped by that monster for 
a moment. Wlien I saw Bonaparte in 1803 in 
Brussels, he managed to inspire me with confi- 
dence in his magnanimity and greatness of char- 
acter. But the deception did not last long, and 
soon I perceived that this incarnate fiend would 
not stop in his career until he had destroyed all 
existing thrones and states.^ But I deny ever 
having received money from him — I deny ever 
having accepted any presents from him. And 
the best proof of it is that I have not any prop- 
erty whatever, but am as poor as a church mouse. 
My wife has scarcely a decent parlor for the re- 
ception of her friends ; and as for myself, a plain 
arm-chair and a tobacco-pipe were always the goal 
of my wishes.” 

“ You are poor, because you squander at the 
gaming-table and in secret orgies what you obtain 
by your intrigues,” said Grunert, sternly. “Your 
poverty does not absolve you, for it is the direct 
consequence of your dissipated life. You are a 
traitor. It was owing to your machinations in 
the interest of Napoleon that our army, last year, 
when it ought to have taken the field with the 
Austrian and Russian forces against France, was 
placed so late on the war-footing, and finally re- 
turned to its garrisons without having dra^vn the 
sword. You are to blame for the disgraceful 
treaty of Vienna, for Count Haugwitz is merely a 
tool in your hands. You rule over him. You 
laughed and rejoiced when the treaty of Vienna 
had been concluded, for you are a descendant of 
the French colony of Berlin, and you have no 
heart for the honor of Germany and Prussia.” 

“He is a traitor!” cried the people; “do not 
let him go ! Detain him ! He shall not betray 
the queen ! ” 

The crowd approached Lombard in the most 
menacing manner, and were about to drag him ^ 
from his chair, but Grunert and Pufahl warded 
them off, and protected him with their broad and 
vigorous bodies. 

“ You do not yet know all he has done,” ex- 
claimed Mr. Pufahl, in a powerful voice. “ I will 
tell you about the last and most infamous instance 
of his treachery. It is his fault that we lost the 
battle of Jena — his fault alone.” 

“ What am I to hear ? ” whispered Louisa. 

Perfectly beside herself, she approached closer 


* Lombard’s own words.— Vide Gentz’s “ Miscellanies,” 
vol. ii., p. 194. ’ 


THE FAITHFUL PEOPLE OF STETTIX. 


25 


to the window, and listened in breathless suspense 
to every word that was uttered. 

“Well, let me tell you what Lombard has 
done,” added Mr. Pufahl. “ In the middle of last 
month our king sent Lieutenant-Colonel von Kru- 
semark with an autograph letter to St. Petersburg, 
in which he informed the czar that he intended to 
declare war ngainst France, and requested the 
latter to send him the assistance that had been 
agreed upon between them. Lieutenant-Colonel 
von Krusemark was accompanied by a single foot- 
man only, whom he had taken into his service for 
this special purpose, and who had been warmly 
recommended to him. During the whole journey 
the colonel kept the dispatches on his bare breast. 
It was only when he had arrived at St. Peters- 
burg that he laid them for a little while upon a 
table, in order to change his dress, and deliver 
them immediately to the czar. The servant was 
engaged in arranging his clothes. M. von Kruse- 
mark went for a minute into an adjoining room, 
and when he returned, the footman had disap- 
pe.ired with the dispatches. All the efforts made 
by Krusemark and the police to recover the im- 
portant papers were fruitless. They found neither 
them nor the servant. Krusemark, therefore, had 
to send a courier to Berlin, and ask for new in- 
structions. This caused a delay of several weeks, 
in consequence of which the Russian army was 
unable to be here in time to join our troops and 
assist them in attacking the French. We would 
not have lost the battle of Jena, if the king’s dis- 
patches had been delivered to the Emperor of 
Russia at an earlier moment, and if bis army had 
set out in time for the seat of war. We would 
not have lost the battle, if the dispatches had not 
been stolen. Now listen to what I am going to 
tell you : That footman, had been recommended by 
Lombard to Lieutenant- Colonel von Krusemark^ 
and was a near relative of the former / ” 

“ He is a traitor ! ” cried the people, “ it is his 
fault that we lost the battle of Jena! But he 
shall atone for it I Woe to the traitor ! ” 

“ Oh, your majesty 1 ” exclaimed Madame von 
Berg, in terror, “just see! the furious men are 
dragging him from his chair. They will assassi- 
nate him. Have mercy on him and save his 
life ! ” 

“Yes,” said the queen, “stepping back from 
the window, “ yes, I will protect him, but I will 
also protect myself.” 

And hurrying across the apartment, she opened 
the door of the anteroom, where the major of 
the garrison of Stettin and a few staff-officers 
were assembled. 

“ Major,” said she, in a commanding voice. 


“hasten down-stairs, and arrest Cabinet-Counsellor 
Lombard. Take him to the guard-house, where 
you will detain him until the king send you fur- 
ther orders. I will report in person to his majes- 
ty what I commanded you to do.” 

It was high time to interfere, in order to save 
Lombard’s life. The enraged people had already 
thrown him down, and, regardless of the suppli- 
cations of the two merchants, commenced be- 
laboring him unmercifully, when the major ap- 
peared with a few soldiers and police officers. 

“ Order ! order ! ” he called in a loud voice. 
“ Order, in the name of the queen ! ” 

The noise immediately died away ; and those 
who had already seized Lombard turned around 
and stepped respectfully aside to let the major 
pass. ^ 

“ In the name of the queen,” he repeated, pla- 
cing his hand on Lombard’s shoulder, and assist- 
ing him to rise, “ I arrest you, Cabinet-Counsellor 
Lombard ! You will accompany me to the guard- 
house.” 

But Lombard, unable to stand, had sunk down 
on the chair, half dead with terror. 

“You see, sir, I am unable to accompany you,” 
he groaned, faintly, “I cannot walk.” 

“My soldiers will carry you, then,” said the 
major; making a sign to them, he added, “Take 
the prisoner in your arms, and carry him to the 
guard-house.” 

Amid the loud applause of the crowd the order 
was immediately obeyed. The soldiers seized Lom- 
bard, and started off with him. A large number 
followed, laughing and deriding him, and con- 
gratulating each other that their queen would now 
be able to continue her journey uninterruptedly, 
as the traitor had been arrested. 

After reaching the guard-house, M. Lombard 
was locked up in one of the common cells, but 
the major dared not condemn the influential and 
powerful friend of Minister von Haugwitz to lie 
on the hard bench of the criminals, and to eat 
the ordinary prisoner’s fare. He, therefore, sent 
to the first hotel in Stettin, and requested the 
landlord to furnish Lombard with bedding and 
food, and to send both immediately. But the 
soldiers returned without having obtained either 
one or the other. 

“ Well, will the landlord send the articles ? ” 
asked the major. 

“No, sir,” was the reply; “the landlord de- 
clined doing so. He said, he would not furnish a 
traitor with any thing, no matter what price he 
offered him.” 

The major tried in vain to look angry. The re- 
ply pleased him just as much as the chastisement 


26 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


inflicted on Lombard by the people had pleased 
him previously. 

“ Then go to another landlord,” he said, “ and 
make the same request of him. If he should also 
decline complying with it, go to a third. In short, 
go and find a landlord who is willing to send bed- 
ding and food to Cabinet-Counsellor Lombard.” 

The people, who had gathered in front of the 
guard-house, heard the words of the soldiers as 
well as the renewed order of the major, and ac- 
companied them to find a landlord willing to fur- 
nish bedding and food for the traitor. 

An hour elapsed before they returned, still ae- 
companied by the crowd, whose numbers had vastly 
increased. The major was in Lombard’s cell, and 
had left orders for the soldiers to report to him 
there. He anticipated, perhaps, the answer they 
would bring back to him, and wished the prisoner 
to hear it. 

He who had hitherto sat at tables laden with 
delicacies and slept only on silken beds — the epicu- 
rean and sensual spendthrift — lay on the hard 
wooden bench, groaning with pain and terror, 
when the soldiers entered his cell. The major 
stood at the window, and drummed on the 
panes. 

“ Well,” he said, “ do you at length come, and 
bring bedding and food for M. Lombard ? But 
why did you tarry so long, you lazy fellows ? Did 
you not know that until your return he would 
have to lie on the bench here like a common 
felon ? ” 

“We could not return at an earlier time, sir,” 
replied they. “We have gone from hotel to hotel ; 
we have informed all the landlords in Stettin of 
your orders, and requested them to furnish Cabinet- 
Counsellor Lombard with bedding and food. But 
all of them made the same reply — all of them an- 
swered : ‘ Tell the major that I shall not comply 
with his orders. I will not furnish a traitor with 
any thing ! ’ ” 

“Oh!” groaned Lombard; “then they want 
me to die with my sick, bruised body on the hard 
boards here ! ” 

“No!” exclaimed the major, “I will obtain 
another couch for you. I will immediately go to 
the governor and procure an order from him that 
will compel the hotel-keepers to furnish you with 
the necessary articles.” 

Half an hour afterward he returned to Lombard, 
who had meanwhile vainly tried to sleep. 

“ Now, sir,” said the major, “ your wishes will 
soon be fulfilled. The governor has ordered the 
proprietor of the hotel Zum Kronprinzen^ under 
pain of severe punishment, to furnish you with all 
necessaries, and I have sent some of my men to 


him with this written order. They will doubtless 
speedily return.” 

A few minutes later, in fact, the door opened, 
and the soldiers carried a bed into the cell ; two 
others followed with smoking dishes. 

“ Well,” said the major, “then the landlord of 
the hotel that I sent you to has no longer refused 
to give you the required articles ? The governor’s 
order had a good effect.” 

“ Yes, sir, it had a good effect. But the pro- 
prietor of the hotel Zum Krovprinzen sends word 
to you, that inasmuch as the governor had issued 
so stringent an order, nothing remained for him 
but to obey ; but as soon as he should be com- 
pelled no longer to furnish M. Lombard with any 
thing, he would smash the dishes and plates from 
which the cabinet counsellor had eaten, and burn 
the bedding on which he had slept.” 

M. Lombard had apparently not heard these 
mortifying words. Assisted by his footman, who 
had been sent for, he hastily rose and sat down at 
the table to dinner. 

In the evening the major repaired with a fe‘\;^ 
oflicers to the hotel, and inquired for the land- 
lord. 

He came in, somewhat confused, and convinced 
that the major would censure him for his conduct 
The latter, however, went to meet him, and, with 
a kindly smile, offered him his hand. “ Sir,” he 
said, “ these gentlemen and I have taken it upon 
ourselves to express to you, in the name of all our 
comrades, our delight at the brave and manly re- 
ply you made to-day, when compelled to furnish 
Lombard, the traitor, with food and bedding. The 
officers of the garrison have resolved to board 
with you, for we deem it an honor to be the guests 
of so patriotic a man.” 


CHAPTER YII. 

THE queen’s flight. 

Louisa waited till Lombard had been carried 
away amid the jeers of the people ; then, accom- 
panied by her friend, she hastened down-stairs in 
order to continue her journey. Many persons 
were still assembled in the street, who, instead of 
following Lombard, had preferred to see the queen 
once more. They received her with enthusiastic 
cheers, and heartily wished her a safe journey. 

“ Give our best wishes to our king, and tell him 
that we will be faithful to him as long as we 
live ! ” exclaimed a voice from the crow'd. 

“We thank the queen for ordering the traitor • 


THE QUEER’S FLIGHT. 


21 


to be arrested ! ” exclaimed another. “ Now we 
need not have any fears for her, and know that she 
is able to continue her journey without incurring 
any danger whatever.” 

Louisa greeted her subjects smilingly, and 
lowered the windows of the carriage for the pur- 
pose of returning their salutations, and of being 
seen by them. 

“ Yes,” she said, when the carriage rolled 
through the gate into the high-road, “ yes, I hope 
the prophecy of these good men will be fulfilled, 
and that I shall safely reach my destination. Now 
that Lombard has been arrested, I am satisfied of 
it, for he had followed me in order to inform the 
enemy of my whereabouts ; I feel convinced of it. 
But the judgment of Heaven has overtaken him, 
and he has received his punishment. Oh, how 
dreadful it must be to stand before the people 
with so bad a conscience, so pale and cowardly a 
face, and to be accused by them ! We are able 
to bear up under the greatest afidictions when our 
soul is free from guilt ! And therefore I will meet 
the future courageously and patiently, hoping that 
God will have mercy on us. Henceforth there 
will be but one duty for me, and that is, to be a 
faithful mother, and a comforter to my husband 
in his misfortunes. Oh, Caroline, my heart, which 
was lately, as it were, frozen and dead, is re- 
awakening now — it is living and throbbing with 
joy, for I shall see again my husband and my 
children ! If all should forsake us, love will re- 
main with us, and he whose heart is full of love 
will not be forsaken by the Lord.” 

She leaned back and closed her eyes. Profound 
peace was depicted on her handsome face ; her 
brow was calm and cloudless, and a sweet smile 
played on her lips. Grief had not yet marked 
this noble and youthful countenance with its 
mournful yet eloquent traces, and its handwriting 
was not yet to be read on her expansive forehead. 

“ Oh,” whispered her friend to herself, contem- 
plating the beautiful slumbering queen, “ oh, that 
grief might pass away from her like a dark cloud 
— that no thunderbolt burst forth from it and 
strike that beloved head ! But I am afraid the 
lightning will at last blight all the blossoms of 
her heart. 0 God, give her strength, nerve her 
in her sufferings, as Thou hast blessed her in her 
happiness ! She is sleeping ; let her slumber be 
peaceful and refreshing, so that it may invigorate 
her mind ! ” Madame von Berg leaned cautiously, 
in order not to disturb the queen, into the other 
comer of the carriage, which rapidly drove along 
the high-road. 

The journey was continued uninterruptedly from 
station to station ; in every town and village the 


people, as soon as they had recognized her, has- 
tened to procure fresh horses for her, and crowds 
gathered everywhere to cheer her on her way. 
She had already passed through Frankfort, and 
stopped in the village of Rettwein in front of the 
superintendent’s house. The footman entered 
and asked in her name for another set of horses. 
The superintendent looked at him uneasily and 
gloomily. “ I will get them directly,” he said ; 
“ I will go myself to the stable and harness them, 
in order not to detain the queen unnecessarily.” 
He left the house hastily, and the footman returned 
to the carriage. 

Louisa had risen and contemplated with a mel- 
ancholy air the deserted landscape. For the first 
time since the beginning of her journey she was 
not welcomed on her arrival. Nobody seemed to 
know or care that it was the queen who was 
seated in the carriage. Only a few tow-headed 
peasants’ children, in ragged, dirty dresses, rushed 
toward the superintendent’s house and stared at 
her, without saluting or thanking her for her kindly 
nods. 

“ We shall frequently ride out of the gate, but 
no drums will be beaten,” murmured she, with a 
faint smile, and sank back on the cushions. 

Time passed, and no horses made their ap- 
pearance. The queen glanced uneasily at her 
watch. “We have been here nearly an hour,” 
she said ; “ this long delay renders me uneasy.” 

She rose once more and looked again out of the 
coach window. The same silence prevailed. The 
children were still in front of the house, with 
their fingers in their mouths, staring at the car- 
riage. At a distance the dull lowing of the cows 
in their stables and the barking of dogs were to 
be heard. No human being, except the few chil- 
dren, was to be seen ; even the superintendent did 
not make his appearance, although he knew that 
the queen was waiting at his door. Just then, 
however, a laborer in a long blouse, with heavy 
wooden shoes, came out of the house and re- 
mained at the door, staring with his small blue 
eyes at the royal carriage. 

“ I do not know why,” munnured Louisa, un- 
easily, “ but this silence frightens me ; it fills my 
heart with a feeling of anxiety which I cannot well 
explain. It seems to me as though every thing 
around me were breathing treachery and mischief, 
and some great danger were menacing me. Let 
us set out — we must leave this place. Why do 
not the horses come ? ” 

“ Will your majesty permit me to call the foot- 
man, and ask him to hurry up the postilion ? ” 
said Madame von Berg, leaning out of the win 
dow. 


28 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


“ Tell them to make haste,” she said to the ap- 
proaching footman. “Her majesty wishes to 
continue her journey immediately.” 

“The horses are not yet here,” exclaimed he 
anxiously ; “ the superintendent promised he would 
fetch and harness them himself, and he does not 
return.” 

Some one set up a loud, scornful laugh, which 
reached the queen’s ears. She bent forward and 
looked uneasily at a laborer who was standing at 
the door with folded arms. The footman turned, 
and asked him, indignantly, why he laughed. The 
man looked at him with twinkling eyes. “Well,” 
he said, “I laugh because you are looking for 
horses, and have been waiting here for an hour al- 
ready. But they will not come, for the superin- 
tendent has driven two of them through the back 
gate into the field, and then mounted the third, 
and rode off!” 

The queen uttered a low cry, and placed her 
hand convulsively on her heart ; she felt there a 
piercing pain, depriving her of breath, and turn- 
ing her cheeks pale. 

“ Then the stable is empty ? ” said Madame von 
Berg. 

“ Yes, and there is not a hack even in the whole 
village ; the peasants have taken them all to Kiis- 
trin, lest the French should take them.” 

“ Are the French, then, so near ? ” 

“The superintendent said this morning he 
had seen them at Biirwalde, two miles from our 
village.” 

“ Let us start — let us set out without a min- 
ute’s delay,” said Louisa, anxiously grasping her 
friend’s arm. “ The superintendent is a traitor, and 
has left the village in order to inform our enemies 
that I am here. Oh, Caroline, we must escape, 
and if I cannot do otherwise, I shall pursue my 
journey on foot ! ” 

“No, your majesty, there must and will be 
some expedient,” replied Caroline, resolutely. 
“ Permit me to alight for a moment, and speak to 
the postilion who drove us hither.” 

“ I shall alight with you,” exclaimed the queen, 
rising and trying to open the coach door. 

Madame von Berg wished to keep her back. 
“What,” she exclaimed in dismay. “ I am sure 
your majesty will not — ” 

“ Speak personally to the postilion ? Yes, I 
will. He is a human being, like all of us, and at 
this hour happier and more enviable than we are. 
Perhaps he will have mercy on his sovereign ! ” 

Sh(' hastily left the carriage, and ordered the 
footman to conduct her to the postilion, who, 
during the last hour, had fed and watered his 
horses, and was just about to ride back with them 


to his station. He hastened to obey the order, 
and approached the queen, who stood trembling 
near the carriage by the side of Madame von 
Berg. 

“ Speak to him first,” said Lousia to her friend. 

“You have heard that we cannot get any other 
horses,” said Madame Berg. “Her majesty wants 
you, therefore, to drive us to the next station.” 

“ That is impossible, madame,” said the postil- 
ion ; “ my horses are exhausted, and I myself am 
so weary that I am almost unable to stand, for I 
have been on horseback for three days. We had 
to take fugitives to Kiistrin all the time.” 

“If you drive us thither rapidly and without 
delay, you shall be liberally rewarded ; you may 
depend on it,” replied Madame von Berg. 

“ All the rewards of the world would not do 
me any good, inasmuch as neither I nor my 
horses are able to continue the journey to Kiis- 
trin,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. “ I 
would gladly comply with your request, but I 
cannot.” 

“You cannot ? ” asked the queen, in her sono- 
rous voice, “ have you any children ? ” 

“ Yes, madame, I have children. Two boys and 
a girl.” 

“ Well, suppose you should hear that your chil- 
dren were in Kiistrin, that some great danger 
was menacing them, and that they were anxiously 
crying for their father. What would you do 
then ? ” 

“ I would gallop with lightning speed, not car- 
ing if the trip killed my horses, could I only reach 
my children ! ” 

“Well,” said the queen, with a gentle smile, 
“ although you are a father, and love your chil- 
dren so ardently, yet you are cruel enough to re- 
fuse your assistance to a mother who wishes to 
hasten to hers ? I beseech you take me to them, 
for they are looking with anxiety forme.” As she 
uttered these words her eyes filled with tears, and 
her lips trembled. 

The man was silent, and gazed with an air of 
surprise at Louisa’s beautiful face. “Madame,” 
he said, after a pause, “ pray enter the carriage 
again. I will take you to Kiistrin — you shall be 
with your children in an hour. But I tell you, 
madame,” he added, turning to Madame von Berg, 
“ Ido not go for the sake of the reward you have 
promised me, and I will not take any money. I 
go because it would be infamous not to reunite a 
mother and her children. Now, make haste.” 
He turned round without waiting for a reply, and 
began to prepare for the journey. 

The queen gazed after him with beaming 
glances, and then raised her eyes to heaven. “ I 


THE QUEEN’S FLIGHT. 


29 


thank Thee, my God,” she • murmured. “ Give 
me strength that I may still believe in the human 
heart, and that such a discovery as I have made 
to-day as to the treachery of one man may not 
harden my heart ! Come, Caroline, let us enter ; 
in an hour we shall be with my children ; oh, in 
an hour, I shall see the king ! ” An expression 
of delight overspread her face like sunshine, and 
she hastened to the carriage with light, elastic 
steps. 

The postilion whipped the horses. The village 
was soon left behind, and they proceeded rapidly 
toward their destination. 

“ How fast the kind-hearted man drives ! ” 
said Louisa. “ He does not do so for the sake of 
the queen, but because he thinks of his children, 
and commiserates a mother’s heart. Oh, I con- 
fess, my heart was painfully moved by the dis- 
covery of the superintendent’s treachery, but the 
all-merciful God sends me this excellent man. I 
shall ever remember him, and, please God, I will 
reward him for his kindness, by taking care of 
his children.” 

“But I trust your majesty will also remember 
the traitor, and cause him to be punished,” said 
Madame von Berg, indignantly. “ He has com- 
mitted a great crime against his queen and against 
his fatherland, and ought to be called to account,” 

“If he has deserved it, let God punish him,” 
said Louisa, gently. “ I shall try to forget him, 
and I beg you not to say any thing about it to 
the king. I am afraid, my dear, we should have 
much, very much to do, if we were to punish all 
those who betray us. The superintendent was the 
first faithless subject we met, but he will not be the 
last. Let us forget him. But what is that ? 
V/hy does the postilion drive so fast ? It seems 
as if the carriage had wings. "What does it 
mean ? ” 

In fact, they dashed along the road like an ar- 
row, and, as though this were not sufficient, the 
anxious voice of the footman was heard shouting, 
“ Forward, postilion 1 Forward, as fast as pos- 
sible ! ” 

“ There is something wrong, and I must know 
what it is ! ” exclaimed the queen. She rose from 
her seat, and opened the front window. “ Tell 
me honestly and directly,” she said to the foot- 
man, “ why does the postilion drive so rapidly?” 

“If your majesty commands me to do so, I 
must tell the truth,” replied he. “ We are pur- 
sued by French chasseurs. They are galloping 
behind us on the high-road. I can already distin- 
guish their uniforms.” 

“And shall we be able to escape them?” asked 
Louisa, with the semblance of perfect calmness. 


“We hope so, your majesty. If the horses 
can run fifteen minutes longer, we are safe, for 
then we shall be in Kiistrin.” 

“Tell the postilion that I shall provide for the 
education of his children, if we reach Kiistrin in 
fifteen minutes,” replied the queen. 

She then sank back for a minute like a bruised 
reed. A heart-rending scream escaped her, and 
she raised her hands in despair. Presently she 
again became composed and looked back from 
the window, so as to be able to see the approach- 
ing danger. 

Like lightning they proceeded along the high- 
road, but the chasseurs gained upon them, and 
the distance rapidly decreased. The queen’s 
piercing eyes could already distinguish the faces 
of her enemies. She heard the loud shouts and 
oaths with which they sought to increase their 
speed. She leaned back, and a fearful pallor 
overspread her cheeks, but she was still calm. 

“ Listen to what I tell you, Caroline,” she said, 
in a grave, solemn voice, “ I cannot survive the 
disgrace of being taken prisoner by the French. 
I will not adorn, as a modem Cleopatra, the tri- 
umphal entry of the modern Augustus. To live 
and to die honorably is my motto. I prefer death 
to ignominious captivity. Tell it to my husband 
and my children. And now to the will of God 
I commit myself. The moment that a French 
soldier extends his hand toward me, this friend 
will deliver me ! ” 

She drew a small dagger from her bosom, and 
grasped it firmly and resolutely. 

“ What are you going to do ? ” exclaimed Cai 
oline, in terror. 

“ Hush ! ” replied the queen, “ my resolution is 
irrevocable. Sooner death than the disgrace of 
ridicule ! Let us see what is going on.” 

She leaned once more out of the carriage, which 
was still dashing along with the utmost rapidity. 
The chasseurs were fast approaching. The pant- 
ing and snorting of the foaming horses were al- 
ready heard — the flashing, triumphant eyes of the 
soldiers distinctly seen. Every second brought 
them nearer and nearer. Louisa withdrew her 
head. Her right hand firmly grasped the dagger. 
In breathless exhaustion, and as pale as though 
dying, she awaited her fate. 

Suddenly they rolled with great noise over a 
paved street — they stopped — and Louisa thought 
it was an angel’s voice, when she heard the words, 
“ There is Kiistrin ! AVe are saved ! ” She started 
up, and looked once more out of the window. 
Yes, she was saved. The chasseurs were gallop- 
ing off again, and close at hand was the first gate 
of the fortress of Kiistrin. She had constantly 


30 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


looked back toward the pursuing enemy, not tow- 
ard her destination, and now that she was saved, 
it seemed to her a miracle, for which she thanked 
God from the bottom of her heart. 

They passed through the gate, but could only 
drive at a slow pace. An immense chaos of vehicles 
loaded with bedding, furniture, trunks, cases, 
boxes, and bags, obstructed the passage. Shrieks, 
lamentations, and oaths, resounded in the wildest 
confusion. All the inhabitants of the suburbs and 
neighboring villages had fled hither with their 
movables, to seek protection behind the walls of 
the fortress. 

The queen had again concealed the dagger in 
her bosom, and looked up to heaven with eyes 
full of fervent gratitude. 

“ I am saved ! ” she whispered ; “ I shall see 
again my husband and my children. Life is mine 
again ! ” 

The passage became wider. They were able to 
advance more rapidly, and soon reached the mar- 
ket-place. A general in uniform was just cross- 
ing it. "^Vhen he was passing near her, the queen 
joyfully exclaimed : 

“ Kockeritz ! Where is the king ? ” 

“ Oh, Heaven be praised that your majesty 
has arrived I The king is here. He is standing 
among the generals in front of the house yonder.” 

They stopped. The coach door opened, and 
the pale, melancholy face of the king looked in. 
Louisa stretched out her arms toward him. 
“ Frederick ! my dear, dear husband ! ” she ex- 
claimed, and, encircling his neck with her arms, 
imprinted a kiss on his lips. He did not utter a 
word, but drew her with an impetuous motion into 
his arms and carried her into the house, regard- 
less of the rules of etiquette, through the crowd 
of generals, who bowed and stepped aside. She 
clung tenderly to him and supported her head with 
a blissful smile on his shoulder. He now placed 
the beloved burden slowly and cautiously into an 
easy-chair ; then crossed the room and opened the 
door leading into an adjoining chamber. 

“ Come, come, your mother is here ! ” said he, 
abruptly, and two boys ran immediately into the 
room, with a loud, joyous exclamation. 

“ My sons, my beloved sons ! ” cried Louisa, 
stretching out her hands toward them. They 
rushed to her, clasping her in their arms and kiss- 
ing her. The queen pressed them to her heart, 
shedding tears, half of grief, and half of happiness 
at being reunited with her family. Not a word 
was spoken ; only sighs and sobs, and expressions 
of tenderness, interrupted the silence. The king 
stood at the window, looking at his wife and sons, 
and something like a tear dimmed his eyes. “ I 


would gladly die if they could only be happy 
again,” he murmured to himself ; “ but we are 
only in the beginning of our misfortunes, and 
worse things are in store for us ! ” 

He was right; worse things were in store for 
them. Day after day brought tidings of fresh dis- 
asters. The first w'as, that Erfurt had capitulated 
on the day after the battle of Jena — that the 
French occupied it, and that a garrison of four 
thousand men had surrendered at discretion. Then 
came the news that the French, who had not met 
with the slightest resistance, and were driving 
every thing before them, had crossed the Elbe and 
were moving on Potsdam and Berlin. The royal 
couple learned at the same time that Count Schu- 
lenburg had left Berlin with the troops without 
permission, and solely on his own responsi- 
bility, and that he had forgotten in his hurry to 
remove the immense quantity of arms from the 
arsenal. Another day dawned and brought even 
more disastrous tidings. The French were re- 
ported as approaching the fortress of Kiistrin by 
forced marches ! 

A panic seized the garrison. Most of the ofiicers 
and privates, and the whole suite of the king, de- 
clared loudly, “ Peace only can save us ! Further 
resistance is vain, and will increase our calamities. 
Submission to the conqueror may save what re- 
mains.” Minister von Haugwitz used this lan- 
guage, and so did Generals von Kockeritz and von 
Zastrow, and so thought the commander of Kiis- 
trin, though he did not utter his sentiments. 

The king listened to all these supplications and 
suggestions with grave and gloomy composure. 
He did not say a word, but looked sometimes with 
an inquiring glance at the pale face of the queen. 
She understood him, and whispered with a smile : 
“ Courage, my husband, courage ! ” And he nod- 
ded to her, and said in a low voice : “ I wdll have 
courage to the bitter end! We cannot remain 
here, for the report that the French are approach- 
ing has been confirmed. Let us go to Graudenz 1 ” 

Louisa laid her hand on the king’s shoulder, 
and looked tenderly into his eyes. “ Whither you 
go, I go,” she said, “ even though we should be 
compelled to escape beyond the sea or into the 
ice-fields of Siberia ; we will remain together, and 
so long as I am with you, adversity cannot break 
my heart.” 

Frederick kissed her and then went to make the 
necessary arrangements for their departure, to 
give his final orders to the commander of Kiis- 
trin, M. von Ingel sheim ; “ Defend the fortress to 
the last extremity, and capitulate under no circum- 
stances whatever.” 

The queen seemed calm and composed so long 


NAPOLEON IN POTSDAM. 


31 


as her husband was at her side. But when he 
had withdrawn, she burst into tears ; sinking 
down on a chair, she buried her face in her hands 
and sobbed aloud. 

“ You are weeping ! ” whispered a soft, sweet 
voice. “ Oh, dear mother, do not weep,” said 
another, and two heads leaned on her shoulders — 
the heads of her oldest sons. She took her hands 
from her face, and shook the tears from her eyes. 
She kissed her sons, and, placing both of them 
before her, gazed at them a long time with an air 
of melancholy tenderness. 

“Yes,” she said, and while she spoke her voice 
became firmer, and her face radiant — “ yes, I am 
weeping ; nor am I ashamed of my tears. I am 
weeping for the downfall of my house — the loss 
of that glory with which your ancestors and their 
generals crowned the Hohenzollern dynasty, and 
the splendor of which extended over the whole of 
Prussia — nay, over all Germany. That glory has, 
I say, departed forever. Fate has destroyed in a 
day a structure in the erection of which great 
men had been engaged for two centuries. There 
is no longer a Prussian state, a Prussian army, 
and Prussian honor ! Ah ! my sons, you are old 
enough to comprehend and appreciate the events 
now befalling us; at a future time, when your 
mother will be no more among the living, remem- 
ber this unhappy hour. Shed tears for me, as I 
do for the ruin of our country ! But listen,” she 
added, and her eyes beamed with enthusiasm, “ do 
not content yourselves with shedding tears ! Act, 
develop your strength. Prussia’s genius, per- 
haps, will favor you. Then deliver your nation 
from the disgrace and humiliation in which it is 
at present grovelling! Try to recover the now 
eclipsed fame of your ancestors, as your great- 
grandfather, the great elector, once avenged, at 
Fehrbellin, the defeats of his father against the 
Swedes. Let not the degeneracy of the age carry 
you away, my sons; become men and heroes. 
Should you lack this ambition, you would be un- 
worthy of the name of princes and grandsons of 
Frederick the Great. But if, in spite of all efforts, 
you should fail in restoring the former grandeur 
of the state, then seek death as Prince Louis Fer- 
dinand sought it ! ” 

- ♦ 

OHAPTEPv YIII. 

NAPOLEON IN POTSDAM. 

The unheard-of and never-expected event had 
taken place ; the son of the Corsican lawyer, the 
general of the Revolution, had defeated the Prus- 


sian army, compelled the royal family to flee to 
the eastern provinces, and now made his triumphal 
entry into their capital 1 On the afternoon of the 
24th of October he arrived in Potsdam ; the royal 
palace had to open its doors to him ; the royal 
servants had to receive him as reverentially as 
though he had been their sovereign ! 

Napoleon was now master of Prussia as well as 
of all Germany. But his classic face remained as 
cold and calm in these days of proud triumph as 
it had been in the days of adversity. Ilis suc- 
cesses seemed to surprise him as little as his early 
misfortunes had discouraged him. When ascend- 
ing the broad carpeted staircase, he turned to 
Duroc, his grand marshal, and beckoned him to 
his side. “ Just notice, grand marshal,” he said, 
in so loud a voice that it resounded through the 
palace, “just notice the strange coincidence. If I 
remember rightly, it is just a year to-day since the 
fine-looking Emperor Alexander of Russia arrived 
here in Potsdam, and paid a visit to the queen. 
Please ask the steward who received us at the 
foot of the stairs, whether it is not so.” 

Duroc went away, and soon returned with the 
answer that his majesty had not been mistaken ; 
it was just a year to-day since the Emperor of 
Russia arrived in Potsdam. 

A faint smile overspread Napoleon’s face. “ I 
will occupy the same rooms which Alexander then 
occupied,” he said, passing on. 

Duroc hastened back, to give the necessary or- 
ders. Napoleon walked down the corridor with 
ringing, soldier-like footsteps, followed by his 
marshals, and entered the large portrait-gallery 
of the Prussian monarchs, who looked down on 
him with grave eyes. 

The emperor paused in the middle of the hall 
and glanced over the portraits with a gloomy air. 
“All those men had a high opinion of them- 
selves,” he said, in a sullen tone ; “ they were 
proud of their high birth and of their royal crown, 
and yet death has trampled them all in the dust. 
I will now take upon myself the task of death : I 
will annihilate this Prussia which dared to take 
up arms against me,- and who knows whether this 
gallery of Prussian kings will not close with Fred- 
erick William III. ? Nothing on earth is lasting, 
and sovereigns now-a-days fall from their thrones 
as over-ripe apples from trees. The crown of 
Prussia fell to the ground on the battle-fields of 
Jena and Auerstadt I ” 

The fiortraits of the Prussian rulers looked 
down silently on the triumphant conqueror, and 
neither his scornful voice, nor the haughty glances 
with which he contemplated them, disturbed their 
tranquillity. Not a voice answered these arrogant 


32 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


and insulting words ; the marshals stood silent 
and respectful, and still seemed to listen to the 
voice of the oracle which had just announced to 
the portraits of the royal ancestors of the present 
king the downfall of their house. But Napoleon’s 
brow, which had momentarily beamed with proud 
thoughts, was again clouded. Joining his hands 
on his back, he crossed the hall to the large cen- 
tral window, from which there was a fine and ex- 
tensive view of the lawn, with its old trees and 
splendid statues, and beyond, of the Havel and its 
hilly banks. He gazed gloomily at this landscape, 
then turned and looked again at the pictures, but 
only for a moment, as though he would threaten 
them once more, and make them feel again the 
angry glance of him who had come to dethrone 
their descendant and appropriate his crown. Then 
he fixed his eyes on the portrait of a handsome 
woman whose large blue eyes seemed to gaze at him, 
and her crimson lips to greet him with a winning 
smile. Quite involuntarily, and as if attracted 
by the beauty of this likeness, he approached and 
contemplated it long and admiringly. 

“ Truly,” he said, “ that is a charming creature. 
That lady must have been wondrously lovely, and 
at the same time surpassingly graceful and high- 
spirited,” 

“ Sire,” said Duroc, who had followed him and 
overheard his words, “sire, she is still wondrously 
lovely, and, as your majesty says, surpassingly 
graceful and high-spirited. It is the portrait of 
Queen Louisa of Prussia.” 

A dark expression mantled Napoleon’s face, 
and, bending an angry glance on Duroc, he said, 

“ It is well known that you were always foolishly in 
love with the Queen of Prussia, and, according to 
your statement, one might believe there was no 
woman in the whole world so beautiful as she is.” 
He turned his back on the painting and stepped 
to the next one: “And this, then, doubtless, is 
Frederick William III. ? ” 

“Yes, sire, it is the portrait of the reigning 
king.” 

“ Of the reigning king ? ” repeated the emperor, 
with a scornful smile. “ It is a very good-natured 
face,” he added, looking at the full-sized portrait ; 

“ and as I behold his gentle, timid air, I compre- 
hend that he allows himself to be directed by ad- 
visers, and follows the will of others rather than 
his own. But this little King of Prussia is taller 
than I thought ! ” 

“ Sire, he is about as tall as the Grand-duke of 
Berg,” said Duroc. 

“ As Murat ? ” asked Napoleon. “ It never 
seemed to me that he was as tall as that. Is jiot 
Murat of my own height ? ” | 

\ 


“ No, sire, he is higher than you ! ” 

“ You mean he is taller than I,” said Napoleon, 
shrugging his shoulders. “ Height of stature is 
of no consequence. Frederick II. was much 
smaller than his grand-nephew, and yet he was 
the greatest of Prussia’s kings. We will after- 
ward pay him a visit at Sans-souci. Until then, 
adieu, gentlemen. Come, Duroc, conduct me to 
the rooms of the Emperor Alexander ! ” 

He greeted the marshals with a quick nod, and 
then followed Duroc into the long suite of halls 
and brilliant rooms which, only a year ago, had 
been newly decorated and furnished with royal 
magnificence for the reception of the czar. 

“These kings and princes ‘by the grace of 
God ’ live here very pleasantly,” muttered Napo- 
leon in an undertone ; “ they know better how to 
build and furnish their residences than to preserve 
them to their children. Well, I am a good archi- 
tect, and have come to reconstruct the royal pal 
ace of Prussia. Do you think, Duroc, that those 
ingrates will thank me for it ? ” 

“ They will see that the lion must have his 
share,” said Duroc, “ and they will, doubtless, be 
thankful if any thing is left to them. Sire, here 
we are in the czar’s bedroom ! The steward told 
me every thing was arranged in it precisely the 
same as in the days when the Bussian emperor 
was here. Nobody has slept in this bed since.” 

“ I must sleep in it,” said Napoleon, quickly, 
“ and I believe I shall sleep in the royal Prussian 
palace, and in the bed of the Russian emperor, as 
comfortably as I did in the Tuileries and in the 
bed of Louis XVI.” 

He threw his small three-cornered hat with a 
contemptuous gesture on the bed, which was sur- 
mounted by a velvet canopy, embroidered with 
gold, and then, his arms crossed behind him, com- 
menced slowly pacing the room. Duroc dared 
not disturb him, and turned toward the paintings 
and engravings hanging on the walls. The em- 
peror walked a long while gravely and musingly ; 
his brow grew more clouded, and he pressed his 
lips more firmly together. Suddenly he paused be- 
fore Duroc, and, being alone, spoke to him no longer 
in the tone of a master, but with the unreserved- 
ness of a friend. 

“ Legitimacy is a terrible power, Duroc,” said he, 
hastily; “ it is what I cannot vanquish with all my 
cannon. Sovereigns and princes know it full well, 
and that is the reason of their obstinacy. Thev 
oppose their ancestors to my vifctorious eagles, 
and when, by virtue of my right as conqueror, I 
enter their palaces and take possession of them, 
I find there the proud company of their fore- 
fathers, who seem to look scornfully down on me, 


NAPOLEON AT POTSDAM. 


33 


and tell me, ‘You are after all but an intruder and 
usurper, while we are and shall remain here the 
rightful owners.’ I am sick and tired of playing 
this part of usurper. I shall overthrow all dynas- 
ties, expel all legitimate sovereigns — and there 
shall be no other throne than mine ! I shall be 
at least the first legitimate monarch of the new 
era 1 ” 

“ And expelled princes will sit in some nook of 
your immense empire,” said Duroc, laughing, “ and 
sing to the people the same song of legitimacy ; 
and it will be listened to as one of the fairy sto- 
ries of childhood, in which they believe no more.” 

“ But they shall believe in my legitimacy ! ” ex- 
claimed Napoleon, quickly. “I will be the first 
of the Napoleonic sovereigns.” His brow was 
clouded again. “ But it is true,” he murmured, 
“ in order to found a dynasty, I need a son. I 
must have legitimate children. It will be no fault 
of mine if circumstances compel me to divorce 
Josephine; for I will not, like Alexander of'Ma- 
cedon, conquer exclusively for the benefit of my 
generals. I need an heir to my empire.” 

“ Sire, you have one in the son of the empress, 
noble King Eugene.” 

“ No,” exclaimed the emperor, gloomily, “ the 
son of the Viscount de Beauharnais cannot be heir 
to my throne. My blood does not flow in his 
veins. Oh, why did the young Napoleon die ! I 
had destined him to succeed me, because he was 
of my blood, and. a scion of my family.* Poor 
Josephine ! if her tears and prayers could have 
saved the child’s life, I should never have thought 
of taking another wife.” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed Duroc, in dismay, “ your 
majesty thinks of repudiating the empress ! ” 

“ My heart never will repudiate her,” replied 
Napoleon, drawing a sigh. “ I shall always love 
her, for she deserves it. She is generous and 
high-minded, good and graceful. I never loved 
another woman as I love her — and never shall. 
Judge, therefore, what a cruel blow it will be to 
my heart, should I be compelled to separate from 
her.” 

“ If you should, sire,” said Duroc, in a voice 
• quivering with emotion, — “ if you repudiate the 
empress, you would thereby sign your own death- 
warrant, and Josephine would not survive it.” 

“ She will have to survive it like myself,” ex- 
claimed the emperor, impetuously. “ I shall suffer 
no less — nay, I shall suffer more than she, for she 
never loved me as I love her. Her tears will fall 

* The oldest son of the King of Holland, Napoleon’s 
brother, and of Hortense, Josephine’s daughter, had been 
declared Napoleon’s successor and adopted sou. He died 
of croup, in 1S05, in his seventh year. 


for the lost splendor of the throne — not for her 
husband. But I shall bewail the beloved wife.” 

“ No, sire,” said Duroc, almost indignantly, 
“you are unjust. The empress loves you — you 
alone. She accepted the crown reluctantly and 
with tearful eyes, and will not weep when she 
loses it. She will mourn for her husband only, 
whom she adores, and not for the crown which 
adorns but also oppresses her brow.” 

“Ah, what a warm advocate the empress has !” 
exclaimed Napoleon, smiling. “Do you really 
believe that she loves me so disinterestedly ? ” 

“ Sire, I am convinced of it, and so is your 
majesty. The empress loves in you her dear Bo- 
naparte, and not the emperor. She loves you 
more ardently than any other woman could do. 
Sire, permit an old, well-tried friend and servant 
to warn you. Do not banish Josephine from your 
heart, for she is your guardian angel.” 

Napoleon did not reply immediately, but looked 
melancholy and abstracted. 

“ It is true,” he said, after a long pause, “ Jo- 
sephine brought success ; until I married her every 
thing around me was forbidding and dark. She 
appeared like a sun by my side, and we rose to- 
gether.” 

I 

“ Sire, all will darken again, if you suffer your 
sun to set.” 

“ Ah, bah ! these are nothing but fantastic 
dreams ! ” exclaimed Napoleon, after a brief silence. 
“I am the architect of my fortune — I alone. 
Josephine did not assist me in erecting my edi- 
fice ; she only adorned it with her smiling grace. 

I shall do what fate and my people have a right to 
expect of me, but I do not say that it must be 
done immediately. I have time enough to wait ; 
for as yet I do not stand on the pinnacle to which 
I am aspiring. My plans are not yet accomplished. 

I hope that I shall not die at so early an age as 
my father. I need ten years more to carry out 
my purposes. A sovereign ought not to set too 
narrow limits to his wishes ; but mine — they are 
boundless. Like the conqueror of Darius, I must 
rule the world, and I hope that my desire will one 
day be fulfilled. Nay, I feel convinced that I and 
my family will occupy all the thrones of Europe. 
Then it will be time for me to have a wdfe who 
will give an heir to my empire, and a son to my 
heart. Until then, my friend, keep the matter 
secret ; do not mention what I have told you. 
The portraits of the old kings, with their surly 
faces, have impressed me very disagreeably, and 
it is in defiance of them that I say, I will one day 
a wife — a daughter of the Caesars — who will 
think it an honor to bear a son to the modern 
Caesar ! When the time comes, however, I shall 


34 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


remind you of this hour, and then request you, in 
the name of the confidence which I have reposed 
in you, to prepare my poor, beloved Josephine 
for the blow that is menacing her and myself, and 
which I then shall ward off no longer. But a 
truce to these matters ! Let us go to Sans-souci. 
Come ! ” 

“ Sire, before your majesty has dined ? ” 

“ Ah, you are hungry, then? You would like 
to dine ? ” 

“ Sire, I believe all the gentlemen entertain the 
same desire. None of us have tasted food for 
eight hours.” 

“Eight hours, and you are already hungry 
again ? Truly, this German air exerts a bad ef- 
fect upon my brave marshals. Like the Germans, 
you want to eat all the time. Well, let it so be ; 
as we are in Germany, I will comply with your 
wishes. Let us dine, therefore, and afterward go 
to the country-palace of Frederick II. Be kind 
enough to issue your orders, grand-marshal. Let 
the horses be ready ; we shall set out as soon as 
we have dined. Tell Roustan to come to me ! ” 

Napoleon was now again the sovereign, and it 
was in this capacity that he dismissed Duroc, who 
left the room with a respectful bow. Roustan, 
who had already heard the order in the ante- 
room, glided past him to assist Constant in the 
emperor’s toilet. 


CHAPTER IX. 

SANS-SOUCI. 

Duroc hastened once more through the rooms 
and halls into the corridor, where the palace- 
steward came to meet him. 

“ Dinner is ready, grand marshal,” he said. 

“And have you set another table in the ad- 
joining room ? ” 

“ Your orders have been punctually obeyed.” 

“Be good enough, then, to conduct me to the 
large dining-hall.” 

The steward bowed in silence, and led the 
way. All the marshals and genet'als were already 
assembled when Duroc entered, 

“Gentlemen,” he said, smiling, “ his majesty is 
now occupied with his toilet, and Roustan has as- 
sured me that it would last half an hour. We 
have half an hour, therefore, to take our dinner.” 
Followed by the others, he went into the next 
room. A table had been set tliere, and appetiz- 
ing odors invited them to sit down to it. 

“ Now, steward, have every thing served up as 


quick as possible. We have but twenty min- 
utes left.” During that time there reigned pro- 
found silence, only now and then interrupted by 
a word or a brief remark. The marshals con- 
tented themselves in making the viands dis- 
appear, and emptying the bottles. Duroc, who 
had frequently cast anxious glances at the large 
clock, now rose hastily. “ Gentlemen,” he said, 
“ our time is up, and we must be ready for the 
emperor’s dinner. I will go to his majesty, and 
conduct him to the dining-hall. I hope all of you 
have eaten well, so as not to need much of the 
official repast to which we are going. The em- 
peror has graciously ordered us all to dine with 
him. Be so kind as to repair to the hall.” 

When Napoleon entered, a few minutes later, 
preceded by Duroc, he found all the marshals 
assembled. The dinner commenced, and he, it 
seemed, was no less hungry than his generals, 
for not only did he eat his soup with the utmost 
rapidity, but when he saw one of his favorite 
dishes placed near him, he smiled and nodded 
kindly to the grand marshal, who was standing at 
his right, and presented him a glass of wine. 

“ See how attentive these dear Germans are ! ” 
he said. If I am not mistaken, this is my favor- 
ite dish, fricassee d la Marengo. ” 

“ Yes, sire, I sent the bill of fare hither last 
night by the courier who announced your ma- 
jesty’s arrival, and I am glad to see that it has 
been punctually attended to.” 

“So these German cooks know already how to 
prepare a fricassee d la Marengo ? Who has 
taught them this ? ” 

“Your majesty ; your majesty is now the cook 
and butler for all Germany — everybody has be- 
come familiar with your favorite dishes.” 

The emperor smiled. Placing a piece of bread 
on his fork, he dipped it into the dish, and re- 
peated this several times ; and when the grand 
marshal placed before him a silver plate, filled 
with a portion of the same, he commenced to eat 
rapidly. Aware of his habit, his attendants had 
taken care that the pieces of meat were suffi- 
ciently small, and the whole dish not too hot. He 
began to eat the meat with a fork, and the sauce 
with a spoon, but he seemed to regard both as 
too inconvenient ; for he laid them aside, and, 
after the fashion of the Turks, used his deli- 
cate white hands, adorned with diamond-rings.* 


* Constant, for many years Napoleon’s devoted nalet 
de cJiambre, gives in his reminiscences a detailed ac- 
count of the emperor’s habits, and writes as follows about 
his mode of dining : “The great rapidity with which tho 
emperor was accustomed to eat was frequently very in- 
jurious to his health. One of the immediate effects of 


SANS^OUa. 


35 


Scarcely twelve minutes had elapsed when he 
rose. The grand marshal immediately presented 
to him a golden .basin and a napkin to wash his 
hands. 

Napoleon’s guests had done well in dining be- 
forehand; for, as the servants did not attend to 
them so quickly as to their master, and as they, 
moreover, were not able to eat so fast as he, they 
would assuredly have risen hungry from the 
table.* * 

“ To horse, gentlemen ! ” exclaimed Napoleon. 
“ Let us ride over to Sans-souci, and do homage 
to the manes of the king who was a philosopher 
and a great general at the same time.” 

The streets of Potsdam were deserted as the 
emperor and his brilliant suite rode through them. 
All the windows were closed ; the citizens were 
nowhere to be seen ; only a crowd of idle boys 
followed the imperial cavalcade. The soldiers of 
the grand French army alone greeted the em- 
peror with joyous cheers outside of the city, where 
they were encamped. Potsdam thought, perhaps, 
of its king, who had immortalized it, and was sad 
and ashamed that those whom Frederick the Great 
had routed in so glorious a manner at Ross- 
bach now made their triumphal entry into his cap- 
ital. 

Napoleon’s brow was gloomy ; this silence of the 
population was disagreeable and oppressive. It 
seemed to him to be a sign of the hostile spirit 
of the Prussians ; and as he was riding slowly, his 
head slightly bent forward, along the avenue tow- 
ard Sans-souci, he muttered ; “ This is a malicious 
and infamous trick ! The haughty nobility will 
still oppose me, but I will crush them. They must 
not succeed, however, in making me angry, but I 
shall chastise those who have induced the citizens 
to remain at home, and not to greet me.” And, 

this habit was, that he did not eat very cleanly. Ho liked 
to use his fingers instead of a fork, and, indeed, instead 
of a spoon. Great care was taken always to place a favor- 
ite-dish before him. He partook of it in the manner above 
described, dipping his bread into the sauce, which did 
not prevent the other guests from eating of the same 
dish, or at least such as wished to do so, and there were 
few who did not. I have even seen some who pretended 
to regard this favorite dish as a way of doing homage to 
the emperor. Napoleon’s favorite dish was a sort of 
chicken-fricassee, called, in honor of the conqueror of 
Italj^ '■friaassee a la Marengo.’’ ’’—Constant, Memoires 
vol. ii., p. 56. 

* The guests invited to the imperial table always dined 
beforehand. The emperor, in the haste with which he 
ate, did not notice that the others had no time to do so. 
Once, when he departed from the table, and Eugene, his 
stepson, rose immediately after him, Napoleon turned to 
him, and said: “But you have had no time to eat?” 
“Pardon me,” replied the prince, “I dined beforehand”— 
“Memoires da Constant,” vol. ii., p. 65. 


thoughtfully, he rode on toward the country-seat 
of Frederick the Great. 

No one was at the palace to welcome him but 
the castellan, a venerable man, who, with a few 
aged servants in faded liveries, received the all- 
powerful conqueror at the open folding-doors 
of the hall leading to the terrace. Napoleon 
looked at him with a rapid, piercing glance. 
“ You lived in the period of Frederick II. ? ” he 
asked hastily. 

“ Yes, sire, we were fortunate enough to serve 
the great king,” said the castellan, in faultless, 
fluent French. “ Hence, the honorable task has 
been intrusted to us to watch* over his sacred 
resting-place, and to protect it from injury.” 

“The name of the great king is a sufficient 
protection for this house,” said Napole'on. “ My 
soldiers have a profound respect for true great- 
ness ; they will not dare to desecrate this sanc- 
tuary. ' Be ray guide, my friend. Let me see the 
sitting-room of your king ! ” 

“ Of the present king, sire ? ” asked the cas- 
tellan. 

Napoleon smiled. “ I think there is but one 
king in Sans-souci,” he said, “ and that is Fred- 
erick II. Conduct me to his sitting-room ! ” and 
rapidly crossing the semicircular marble hall, he 
walked toward the side-door which the castellan 
opened. 

“ Sire,” he said, solemnly, “ this is the king’s 
sitting-room ; it is still furnished precisely as 
when he lived in it. It has undergone no change 
whatever.” 

Napoleon entered; his marshals followed him. 
None of them uttered a word ; every one seemed 
involuntarily to tread lightly, as if he feared to 
disturb the silence reigning in this room, sacred by 
its great reminiscences. The emperor walked rap- 
idly into the middle of the room ; there he paused 
with folded arms, and his large dark eyes glided 
lowly from object to object. The marshals moved 
softly around, and, on contemplating the old- 
fashioned furniture, their ragged silken covers, 
the plain desk with the inkstand placed near the 
window, the large easy-chair, shrouded in a rag- 
ged purple blanket, smiled disdainfully and whis- 
pered to each other that this was a room entirely 
unfit for a king, and that one might purchase bet- 
ter and more tasteful furniture of any second-hand 
dealer in Paris. Napoleon, perhaps, had overheard 
their words, or at least noticed their whisperings, 
for he bent an angry glance on them. “ Gentle- 
men,” he said, “ this is a place which deserves our 
profound respect. Here lived one who was a 
greater general than Turenne, and from whose 
campaigns we all might derive instruction. Alex- 


36 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


ander the Great himself would have admired 
Frederick’s battle of Leuthen.” 

The aged castellan, who was standing at the 
door, raised his head, and with a kind glance 
seemed to thank Napoleon for the tribute he had 
paid to the manes of the heroic dead. 

The emperor’s eyes were now fixed on the large 
clock placed on a gilded pedestal. It was a mas- 
terpiece of the period of Louis XV., and adorned in 
the most brilliant roccoco style. The large dial, 
with the figures of colored enamel, rested in a 
frame and case of splendidly-wrought gold, and 
this was surmounted by a portrait of the Em- 
peror Titus, with the inscription, “ Diem per- 
didV 

“ Is that the clock which the king caused to be 
purchased from the heirs of the Marquise de Pom- 
padour ? ” 

“ Yes, sire, it is. It has always stood in this 
room, since he purchased it. Frederick the Great 
prized it very highly, and consulted it exclusively 
until his death. And it seemed to know that he 
liked it, for when he closed his eyes, the clock 
stopped and never went again.” 

“Ah,” exclaimed Napoleon, quickly, “since the 
death of Frederick the government of Prussia, it 
seems, really did not know the time any more. 
And what about that ragged old easy-chair ? Did 
the king use it, too ? ” 

“ Sire,” said the castellan, solemnly, laying stress 
on every word he uttered — “ sire, the great king 
died in that chair; his head rested on the pillow 
now lying on the seat, and he was covered with 
that blanket.” 

The emperor rapidly approached ; the mar- 
shals followed his example and walked toward it 
on tiptoe. He stood before it ; his arms folded, 
his lips compressed, contemplating it. Behind him 
stood the marshals, whose indifferent countenances 
and curious glances contrasted strangely with the 
pale face of their master. Not far from them, 
near the door, stood the white-haired castellan; 
his hands clasped, and his head bowed mournfully 
on his breast. 

Suddenly the room was filled with light; the 
sun, which had hitherto been hidden by clouds, 
burst forth and shone brilliantly; golden beams 
fell upon the easy-chair of Frederick the Great, 
and surrounded it, as it were, with a halo. 

“ This, then, is the death-bed of the great king,” 
said Napoleon, musingly. “ The gods did not per- 
mit him to fall on the battle-field. Disease and 
age vanquished the hero of the Seven Years’ War, 
and he died not amid the triumphs of his soldiers, 
but solitary and alone ! May Providence, in His 
mercy, preserve us from such a fate ! ’ ’ And 


turning quickly to the castellan, he asked, “ Were 
you present when the king died ? ” 

“ Yes, sire, I was ; for I was his valet de chamhrey 
“ Tell me the last words he uttered.” 

“ Sire, he spoke repeatedly, but so inaudibly and 
rapidly that we did not apprehend him. The last 
words which we were able to understand were : 
‘Give me back my soldiers of the Seven Years’ 
War ! I am tired of ruling over slaves ! ’ ” 

“ Strange, strange,” murmured Napoleon ; “he 
was tired of ruling over slaves ! as though it 
were possible to rule over free men ! Ah, I should 
like to have known this king, who was such an 
autocrat, and yet despised slaves ! who wielded 
the sword as skilfully as the pen ! to whom the 
booming of the cannon sounded as melodious as 
the notes of his flute — who made verses with 
Voltaire, and won battles with Schwerin and 
Ziethen ! He was able to do every thing, and we 
have not seen his equal ! ” 

“ Oh, sire,” murmured the marshals, “ your 
majesty forgets — ” 

“ Silence, gentlemen ! ” he exclaimed, in an 
angry voice, pointing with his outstretched arm 
to the easy-chair, “ do not flatter me in this room. 
I wish I had known Frederick the Great, for I be- 
lieve we should have understood each other.” 

“ Sire,” said the castellan, “ it is true, his ma- 
jesty did not know you ; nevertheless, he dreamed 
of you.” 

Napoleon hastily turned toward him and asked : 
“ What ? He dreamed of me ? Tell me all about 
it. Approach ! ” 

The castellan, obeying the sign made to him, 
advanced a few steps slowly and hesitatingly. 

“ Sire,” he said, “ it was a few years after the 
Seven Years’ War. I had just entered the king’s 
service, and was on duty during that night ; that 
is to say, I slept in the anteroom, and had re- 
ceived strict orders to awaken the king at a fixed 
hour in the morning, and to enter his bedroom 
during the night as soon as he called me, or if I 
should hear any noise. Suddenly I heard the cry, 

‘ Fire, fire ! ’ I rushed immediately into the bed- 
room, but no fire was to be seen. My master lay 
on his couch, groaning, breathing heavily, and evi- 
dently under the influence of bad dreams. I, 
therefore, took the liberty to awaken him. ‘ Ah,’ 
said he, heaving a deep sigh, ‘I am glad you 
awakened me ; I had a weird, terrible dream, and 
I will relate it to you. I dreamed I was standing 
on the terrace of Sans-souci, and around me I 
beheld my state and all my palaces close together, 
'and behind them I thought I could descry the 
whole world, with all its cities and countries ; it 
was spread out before my eyes like a painting of 







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NAPOLEON IN POTSDAM 






SANS-SOUCL 


37 


wondrous beauty, and I was rapturously gazing at 
it. All at once the sky grew dark ; black clouds 
passed over it ; profound darkness covered the 
beautiful world, and dreadful shrieks and groans 
resounded through the air. But from the midst 
of the black clouds a bright, dazzling star burst 
like a rocket, and set fire to every thing, until all 
countries w'ere in ruins, and all cities burned 
down. And as I saw that, I cried in my an- 
guish, ‘Fire! fire!’ Fortunately, you came and 
awakened me.’ That, sire,” said the castellan, 
drawing a deep breath, “ that was the dream. The 
king went on to say : ‘ The dream, I am sure, is a 
portentous one, and some remarkable event will 
doubtless happen in the course of this night. 
Write down every thing I told you, and remem- 
ber the date and year ! ’ I did as his majesty or- 
dered me ; I wrote down the date, the year, and 
even the hour in which the dream occurred.” 

“ Was the dream really a portentous one ? Did 
any remarkable event occur in that night ? ” 

“ Yes, sire, a very remarkable event occurred in 
that night, but his majesty did not hear of it ; he 
died too early.” 

“When did he have that dream?” asked Na- 
poleon, fixing his eyes on the old man, who com- 
posedly bore the searching gaze. 

A pause ensued. The castellan replied ; “ Sire, 
Frederick the Great had that dream on the 16th 
of August, 1769.” 

“ On my birthday ! ” ejaculated Napoleon. 

“On the 15th of August, 1769,” repeated the 
old man, “ at three o’clock in the morning.” 

“ The hour of my birth,” muttered the emperor 
to himself. After a short pause he turned again 
toward the castellan, and a strange, sarcastic 
smile played on his lips. 

“ The star fell from the sky, and set fire to all 
the palaces and countries ? ” he asked. 

The castellan nodded. 

“ And you believed that the dream referred to 
me, and that I am the fallen star ? ” 

“ Sire, I only related what the king had dream- 
ed, and in what night and in what hour he had 
the remarkable dream. His majesty spoke fre- 
quently about it, and all his friends heard of it. 
But nobody was able to interpret it. He died 
without obtaining the solution.” 

“But you have solved it,” said Napoleon, 
sneeringly. “ I am the fallen star, and you think 
I have come to fulfil that dream ? ” 

“ Sire, I—” 

“ I shall burn down your palaces and scourge 
your country,” added he, harshly. “Why did 
you irritate me. I did not commence the war ; 
gince you desired it, I gave it to you. But tell your 


friends and the good citizens of Potsdam that the 
dream of their king will not be entirely fulfilled. 
It may be that I shall be compelled to destroy 
royal palaces, but the house of the citizen and the 
cabin of the peasant will not feel my wrath, nor 
will I lay waste your fields. Tell the good deni- 
zens of this city — tell them not to be afraid of 
me ; for never shall I assail their rights and priv- 
ileges, nor interfere with their interests. And now, 
gentlemen, let us proceed ! ” He quickly crossed 
the room, and entered the adjoining apartment. 

“ Sire, this is the reception-room of Frederick 
the Great,” said the castellan, who had followed. 
“ On that table lies the full suit in which his ma- 
jesty gave his last audience — his uniform, his 
order of the Black Eagle, his hat and sword.” 

Napoleon hastened to the table, and seized the 
sword. “ Ah, the sword of Frederick II.,” he ex- 
claimed, with sparkling eyes. “ He often wielc^pd 
it with a victorious hand, and that hat covered a 
head adorned with the laurel-wreath of the poet 
and the great general ! These are trophies that 
I prefer to all the treasures of Prussia. What 
a capital present for the Invalides, especially for 
those who formed part of the army of Hanover ! 
They will be delighted, no doubt, when they see 
in our possession the sword of him who beat 
them at Bossbach ! And as my dear brother, 
Frederick William III., has conferred the order 
of the Black Eagle on me, I suppose he will per- 
mit me to take this decoration as a souvenir of 
the greatest king of the house of Hohenzollern. 
What about the bell that is placed beside the 
hat ? ” 

“Sire,” said the castellan, mournfully and hesi- 
tatingly, “ it is the bell which the king used dur- 
ing his whole reign to call the gentlemen waiting 
in the anteroom, and the footmen at night.” 

“That bell shall stand henceforward in my 
cabinet and on my desk,” said Napoleon. “ Grand 
marshal, order all these things to be packed up 
and to be sent immediately to Paris, and add to 
them also the clock in the other room — the clock 
that was so faithful to the great king as to stop 
at his death, and to refuse to mark the time for 
any one else. I will wind it up, and the clock of 
Frederick the Great must strike again for me. 
Conduct us to the other rooms, castellan.” 

The old man cast a long and melancholy look 
on the precious relics that were about to be taken 
from him, and took leave of them with a profound 
sigh. He then conducted the party to the other 
rooms. He showed them the library, where Fred- 
erick, during the last years of his life, had spent 
every hour when not occupied with government 
affairs, longing for no other society than that of 


38 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


his books. He then took them to the rooms in 
which Yoltaire had lived, and showed the em- 
peror a paper on which the king had written 
verses that Yoltaire had corrected and revised. 
Napoleon contemplated every thing with the 
greatest attention, and then caused himself to be 
conducted to the fine long hall, in which Fred- 
erick, accompanied by his dog, used to take his 
daily walk when the weather was too bad for him 
to do so ii> the open air. The walls of this hall 
were adorned wdth many paintings and engrav- 
ings — all, however, did not appai’ently belong to 
the period of Frederick ; for there were among 
them paintings and engravings representing his 
last hours, and his lonely nocturnal funeral. — 
Others again depicted the scene of young Fred- 
erick William II. standing by the corpse of his 
great uncle, and swearing with tearful eyes, his 
hand placed on the head of Frederick, that he 
would be a just and good ruler to his people. 

“ And what does this picture represent ? ” asked 
Napoleon, pointing to an engraving by the side 
of the above-mentioned painting. 

“ Sire,” said the castellan, in confusion^ “ it is 
a copper-plate, representing the king’s tomb. It 
does not properly belong here, but has been placed 
here temporarily. The artist sent it hither with the 
request to place it somewhere in Sans-souci, and 
I hung it up in this place until my master dis- 
poses of it in some other way.” 

“ But what about this one ? ” asked the em- 
peror, whose piercing eyes were fixed on another 
engraving. “ There is the tomb of Frederick ; 
two men, in full uniform, are standing by its side ; 
a beautiful lady is with them, and all three are 
raising their hands in an odd manner. Ah, ah, 
now I comprehend ; that is last year’s scene, when 
the Emperor Alexander took leave of the king 
and queen at the grave of Frederick the Great, 
and swore eternal friendship to them as well as 
eternal enmity to France ? That is what this en- 
graving represents, I suppose ? ” 

“ Yes, sire, it is,” said the castellan, timidly. 

Napoleon, with a flashing glance, called his mar- 
shals to his side. “ Behold there, gentlemen, one 
of those theatrical scenes with which people here 
in Prussia were declaiming against me, while I 
was silent, but arming against them,” said he with 
a sneer. “ If the King of Prussia does not fulfil 
the other oaths he has taken more faithfully than 
this one, I pity his people ; but he has incurred 
the retribution of the gods, who insist on it that 
men shall fulfil their promises or they will be 
crushed. We have seen enough of the place 
where Frederick the Great passed his life; let us 
pay a last visit to him in his tomb. Where is it ? ” 


“In Potsdam, sire, in the church close to the 
palace.” 

“ Yery well. Come, gentlemen. And you, cas- 
tellan, do not forget that the dream has not been 
altogether fulfilled. The ‘fallen star’ is only a 
devouring fire to the kings who bid him defiance, 
but not to the people who obediently submit.” 
He nodded, stepped from the hall into the ante- 
room, and then into the vestibule, where the 
horses were ready for him and his suite. 

The old man gazed mournfully after the bril- 
liant cavalcade. “ He looks like a marble statue,’^ 
he muttered, “ and I believe that he has no heart 
in his breast. Every thing in him is made of stone. 
If he had a heart, he would not dare to come 
hither and appropriate with a rapacious hand the 
sacred relics of our great king. I must really go 
and see whether his commands to that effect will 
be carried out or not.” And he left the hall with 
youthful alacrity, hastening through the apart- 
ments back to the reception-room. 

Yes, the commands had been obeyed ! The 
hat and sword, the order of the Black Eagle, and 
the bell, had disappeared. The old castellan ut- 
tered a groan, and proceeded to the sitting-room. 
His anxious eyes glanced at the spot where the 
clock had stood. That was also gone. But he 
heard men talking and laughing in the anteroom, 
and when he hastened hither, he saw some of the 
emperor’s servants, who, in compliance with the 
orders of the grand marshal, were engaged in 
packing up the relics in a basket, and jesting at 
what they called the strange and insignificant 
spoils which the emperor had obtained here. 
The white-haired servants of Frederick the Great 
were standing close by, and witnessing with tear- 
ful eyes the removal of treasures so sacred on 
account of the reminiscences connected with them. 
The men were just engaged in placing the clock 
on the other articles in a basket. The castellan 
approached hurriedly and placing his hand on the 
dial, said in a low voice, “ Farewell ! The eyes 
of Frederick the Great have often gazed at you. 
His eyes were also stars, but not fallen stars, and 
they did not scorch and burn, but rendered the 
people happy. Farewell, faithful clock, that stop- 
ped with grief in the last hour of my king ! When 
his last hour comes, announce it loudly and joy- 
ously, and commence going again, for the worst 
time will be over then, and the fallen star tvill 
cease burning. Farewell, and strike that hour as 
soon as possible ! ” * 

* The clock remained in Napoleon’s possession and ac- 
companied him to St. Helena. It stood on the mantel- 
piece in his small parlor, and is mentioned in his will. He 
bequeathed it to his son, the Duke de Eeichstadt, in the 


SANS-SOUCI. 


39 


Looking even^more gloomy than on leaving the 
city the emperor rode with his suite again through 
the deserted, silent streets of Potsdam. The bril- 
liant cavalcade moved as slowly and solemnly as 
a funeral procession toward the church, the lower 
vault of which contained the coffin with the re- 
mains of Frederick. The sexton and his assist- 
ants, bearing the large bunch of keys and a blaz- 
ing torch, conducted the emperor through the dark 
and silent corridors, and opened the heavy, clank- 
ing iron doors leading into the vault. Napoleon 
entered. For a moment he stood still on the 
threshold and gazed in surprise at this plain, 
gloomy vault, the walls of which were not adorned 
with trophies, nor with any decorations whatever, 
and at that humble wooden coffin, which stood so 
bare and solitary in the middle of the sombre 
room. Behind him were his marshals, who looked 
at the strange scene with an air of curiosity and 
astonishment. 

“ Ah,” said Napoleon, gently turning his head 
toward them, and pointing with his right hand to 
the coffin, “ a man must have distinguished him- 
self by many great deeds, and obtained im- 
mortal glory, to need thus no earthly pomp and 
splendor ! ” • 

He approached closely to the coffin ; folding his 
arms on his breast, his lips firmly compressed, he 
gazed long and steadfastly at it. The blaze of the 
torch shed a bright light on his face, and as his 
pale head alone was distinctly visible in the dark- 
ness, the beholders might have believed one of 
the marble statues of the Caesars on the terrace 
of Sans-souci, had descended from its pedestal in 
order to pay a visit to the dead king. 

After a long pause Napoleon’s eye resumed its 
wonted brilliancy. He pointed with a strange 
smile at the dust covering the lid of the coffin. 

Dust without and dust within ! that within was 
a great king and a hero ; yet that without is 

following words: “The clock which always awakened 
me in the morning; it belonged to Frederick IL, and 
I appropriated it in Potsdam.” The bell he also be- 
queathed to his son. Many conflicting statements have 
been made concerning the sword Napoleon took. It was 
certainly not the sword which Frederick had worn to the 
last. The latter had a leathern scabbard which, in several 
defective places, had been repaired with sealing-wax, be- 
cause Frederick found this to be less expensive than to 
have it repaired by a harness-maker. The king had 
taken this sword along, when, in September, 1806, he re- 
paired with the queen to the headquarters of the army ; 
it accompanied him during his flight, and was safely 
brought back by him. It was afterward at the Kunst- 
kammer ” in Berlin. The sword which Napoleon sent to 
Paris had been presented to Frederick by Peter III. of 
Eussia, who, it is well known, was an ardent admirer of 
the great king. Bliicher, in 1814, brought it back from 
Paris. 


more lasting than the oaths which the Emperor* 
Alexander swore here a year ago, with Frederick 
'William and the beautiful Louisa. Even the kiss 
which Alexander imprinted at that time on the 
coffin of Frederick is no longer visible ; dust has 
covered it, and equalized every thing.” Thus 
speaking, he drew lines with his hand ; without 
knowing it, perhaps, his finger traced a large N 
in the dust of the royal coffin. He then hastily 
left the dark vault to return to the palace.* 

The emperor paced the room a long while, his 
hands clasped on his back ; he then rang the bell 
impetuously, and sent for the chief of his cabinet, 
M. de Menneval. 

“ Be seated,” said he, as soon as that func- 
tionary made his appearance ; “ take my pen, I 
will dictate to you my eighteenth bulletin.” f 

M. de Menneval sat down at the desk. Napo- 
leon walked slowly up and down, and dictated in 
a loudj stem voice as follows : “ The en^peror 
arrived in Potsdam on the 25th of October, and 
took up his residence at the royal palace. He 
visited on the first day Sans-souci and the envi- 
rons of Potsdam, spending some time in the rooms 
of Frederick IL, where every thing is still in the 
same condition as at the time of his death. In the 
arsenal at Berlin, five hundred cannon, several 
hundred thousand pounds of powder, and several 
thousand muskets, were found in excellent condi- 
tion. It has been noticed as a singular coinci- 
dence that the emperor arrived in Potsdam on 
the same day and at the same hour, and occupied 
the same rooms, as the Emperor of Russia during 
the latter’s visit — a visit last year which has had 
such fatal consequences for Prussia. Since that 
moment the queen has forgotten to take care of 
her domestic affairs, and of the most important 
duties of the toilet, in order to occupy herself 
with politics, gain power over the king, and 
spread everywhere the evil influence which pos- 
sesses her. The result of that famous oath 
which was taken on the 4th of November, 1805, 
is the battle of Austerlitz, and the speedy evacu- 
ation of Germany by the Russian army in the man 
ner prescribed by France. Forty-eight hours af 
terward that oath at the coffin of Frederick the 
Great was made the subject of a copper-plate, 
which is to be found in all the shops, and even 
causes the peasants to laugh. On it is repre- 


* One of Horace Vemet’s most beautiful paintings rep- 
resents this visit of Napoleon paid to the grave of Fred- 
erick the Great. 

t Napoleon wrote or dictated all his bulletins without 
consulting any one with regard to them. After being 
dictated, the bulletins were, however, submitted to Tal- 
leyrand, who took good care to make no alteration. 


40 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


sented the handsome Emperor of Russia ; by his 
side the queen, and opposite him the king, who 
lifts up his hand over the coffin ; the queen, 
wrapped in a shawl, like lady Hamilton, as seen 
on the London copper-plates, places her hand on 
her heart, and seems to look at the Emperor of 
Russia. It is incomprehensible how the Berlin 
police could permit the circulation of so bas.e a 
satire. At all events, the shade of Frederick can- 
not have contemplated this scandalous scene but 
with indignation and disgust. His mind, his 
genius, his wishes, belong to the French nation, 
which he esteemed so highly, and of which he 
said that, if he were its king, no cannon should 
be discharged in Europe without his permission. 
On his return from Sans-souci the emperor visited 
also the tomb of Frederick the Great. The re- 
mains of this great man are reposing in a wooden 
coffin, covered with one of copper, and in a vault 
devoid of drapery, trophies, or any thing that 
might remind the beholder of his heroic deeds. 
The emperor has presented the Hotel des Inva- 
lided at Paris with the sword of Frederick, with 
his insignia of the order of the Black Eagle, as 
well as with the stands of colors used by the 
king’s lifeguards in the Seven Years’ War. The 
veterans will receive with reverent awe every 
thing that belonged to one of the greatest gen- 
erals known in history.” * 

CHAPTER X. 

napoleon’s entry into BERLIN. 

Tue city of Berlin had not exhibited for many 
years so festive and lively a spectacle as on the 
morning of the 27th of October. An immense 
crowd was moving across the Palace Place, Broad 
Street, and the Linden, toward the Brandenburg 
Gate, and forming in line on both sides of the 
street. Thousands of boys and youths climbed 
the linden-trees, that stand in two rows in the 
middle of this thoroughfare, causing the trees to 
move to and fro under their heavy burden, and 
gazed with eyes full of curiosity from their lofty 
position on the bustle reigning beneath. Through 
the crowd hundreds of busy figures were gliding, 
standing still here and there, and addressing the 
people in low and impressive tones ; now and 
then, however, they did not content themselves 
with mere words, but to some handed pieces 
of money, and whispered, “ Drink the emperor’s 

* Goujon, “Collection des Bulletins do Napoleon,” 
vol. xvii., Bulletin xvii. 


health, in order that your thrcaiis may be pre- 
pared, when he makes his entry, to shout in sten- 
torian tones, ‘ Vive VEmpereur ! ’ ” 

These liberal adherents of Napoleon were 
agents of the French police, already fully organ- 
ized in Berlin — the hirelings of General Clarke, 
who was now governor of the capital, and treated 
the subjugated inhabitants with all the haughti- 
ness and scorn of a triumphant conqueror. 

Many tears were shed in the city during these 
days — many imprecations uttered, but only se- 
cretly and in a low voice, for the people could not 
venture to provoke the anger of the victor, but 
had to bear whatever burdens he imposed on 
them. The odds were too heavy ; the army was 
defeated ; the king with his court had fled ; the 
higher functionaries had either concealed them- 
selves or loudly declared their willingness to take 
the oath of allegiance to the Emperor of the 
French, and to serve him as their master. 

What remained, therefjfre, for the poor inhab- 
itants of Berlin but to submit? All had de- 
serted them ; even the governor had escaped, and 
his lieutenant, the Prince von Hatzfeld, seemed to 
have no other task than to admonish them to be 
quiet and obedient, and to imj)lore them to un- 
dertake, utter, and even think nothing that might 
be distasteful to the new French government ; but 
to bow willingly and cheerfully to every thing that 
the conqueror might demand. 

The citizens, therefore, had bowed to their 
fate ; they had submitted silently, and now hast- 
ened to the Linden and the Brandenburg Gate to 
witness 'the entry of the emperor. Not only the 
citizens and the people generally desired to wit- 
ness this entry — the higher classes, and even 
the ladies, were anxious to do so. Every one felt 
that a great historical event was to transpire, and 
eagerly desired to behold the celebrated man wffio 
was hated and admired at the same time ; who was 
cursed as an enemy, and yet glorified on account 
of his heroic deeds. The streets and trees were 
filled with spectators ; and the windows of the 
splendid buildings, from the ground-floor up to 
the attic, were crowded, and even the roofs had 
been opened here and thei'e for the purpose of 
obtaining more room. 

The Linden exhibited a most imposing and 
brilliant spectacle ; still it seemed as though the 
crowd w'ere to celebrate a funeral pageant, and as 
though they had come as mourners for such an 
occasion. Nowhere joyous faces were to be seen 
— nowffiere were heard outbursts of mirth, or 
those gay, amusing remarks with which the popu- 
lace of Berlin seldom fail to season a festival. 
The faces of the people were grave and gloomy ; 


NAPOLEON’S ENTRY INTO BERLIN. 


41 


and the ladies, standing at the open windows, 
were not festively adorned, but wore black dresses, 
and black veils fell from their heads. 

Suddenly the bells on all the steeples com- 
menced ringing, and the booming of artillery an- 
nounced to the spectators, who had patiently 
awaited this moment from eleven o’clock in the 
morning till four in the afternoon, that the em- 
peror was approaching the Brandenburg Gate from 
Charlottenburg. The thousands assembled main- 
tained a breathless silence ; even the trees did not 
move, for the restless boys who had climbed them 
seemed petrified with astonishment at the extraor- 
dinary spectacle. The men, who were now en- 
tering the gate, were not such soldiers as the peo- 
ple of Berlin had hitherto been accustomed to see. 
They were not fine-looking, neat young men in 
handsome uniforms, with bright leather belts, stiff 
cravats, and well-powdered pigtails, but soldiers 
of strange and truly marvellous appearance. Their 
complexion was dark-brown, and their eyes flash- 
ing as dagger-points. Instead of wigs and pig- 
tails, they wore gaudily-colored turbans ; in- 
stead of close-fitting uniforms, wide red trowsers 
and dark jackets, richly embroidered with gold ; 
curved sabres were hanging at their sides, and 
their small, vigorous, and agile forms harmonized 
perfectly with their splendid Arabian steeds, on 
which' these sons of the desert, the emperor’s 
Mamelukes, were mounted. 

Behind them came another corps. It consisted 
of tall, broad-shouldered men, looking as formi- 
dable as Cyclops, with bearded, bronzed faces ; 
their heads covered with high bearskin caps ; their 
breasts veiled by large leather aprons, reaching 
down to their knees ; on their shoulders enormous 
hatchets, flashing in the sun like burnished silver. 
And behind these sappers came the famous grena- 
diers of the guard, infantry as well as cavalry ; 
next, the riflemen of Vincennes, in their green uni- 
forms ; and, finally, the bands playing merry airs. 
The drum-major hurled his enormous cane with 
its large silver head into the air, and the soul-stir- 
ring notes of the “ Marseillaise” resounded through 
the spacious street. Hitherto nobody in Berlin 
bad been permitted to play or sing this forbidden 
melody, with which France had formerly accom- 
panied her bloodiest orgies; only secretly and 
softly had the people hummed it into each other’s 
ears ; the most stringent orders, issued by the 
police, had banished it from the concert-halls as 
well as from the streets. The emperor, perhaps, 
was aware of this, and it was probably for this 
reason that he had ordered it to be played ; or, 
perhaps, the son of the revolution, on making his 
entry into the capital of a “king by the grace of 


God,” wished to remind the people, by this hymn 
of the terrorists, that it was unnecessary to be 
born under a royal canopy in order to wear a 
crown and to be the anointed of the Lord. 

But no one listened to this proscribed and fear- 
ful melody. All tlie thousands in the streets, on 
the trees, at the windows, and on the roofs, were 
paralyzed with amazement, and looked wonder- 
ingly at the new order of things. They who had 
hitherto seen and known only proud officers, 
mounted on horseback, staring at every citizen 
with supercilious glances, and chastising their men 
for every trifle — they who had always received 
the impression that army officers were exalted 
personages, to whom they had to bow, who never 
ought to w^alk on foot, or carry any burden what- 
ever — now saw before them the officers of the im- 
perial guard differing but slightly from the privates, 
and not only on foot, like them, but carrying heavy 
knapsacks on their backs ; and, what caused still 
greater astonishment, here and there kindly chat- 
ting with their men during the march. 

But suddenly there arose a tremendous commo- 
tion between the pillars of the Brandenburg Gate, 
and the host of marshals and generals, resembling a 
starrspangled avalanche, entered the city. Nothing 
was to be seen but golden epaulettes, orders glitter- 
ing with diamonds, embroidered uniforms, and 
long white ostrich-plumes. Not on them, how- 
ever, were the eyes of the crowd fixed ; they gazed 
only at that grave, pale man, who rode by him- 
self at the head of the dazzling suite. He wore 
no orders, no golden epaulettes, no ostrich-plumes. 
Plain and unpretending was his green uniform 
with its white facings ; unadorned was his small 
three-cornered hat. He sat carelessly and proudly 
on his magnificent charger, which, prancing and 
rearing, seemed to greet the crowd. The rider’s 
features were as immovable as if made of stone ; 
his eyes occasionally, however, bent a piercing 
glance on the multitude, and then gazed again 
into vacancy — the living -emperor w'as trans- 
formed once more into one of the marble triumpha- 
tors of ancient Roman history. He acknowleged, 
in a cold and indifferent manner only, the con- 
stantly-repeated shouts of “ Vive V Empereur ! ” 
with which the boys in the trees, the hired men 
in the street, and the agents of the police, saluted 
him at every step. To him these cries seemed to 
be the usual and indispensable musical accom- 
paniment to the step of his horse ; he did not 
take notice of it when he heard it in his prog- 
ress ; he missed it only when it did not rend the 
air. 

The emperor rode on, moody, quiet, and cold ; 
but scrutinizing and vivid were the glances which 


42 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


the marshals and the rest of his suite cast in all 
directions. They seemed to be anxious to ob- 
serve the inhabitants, and to greet the lovely wo- 
men who were adorning the windows of the 
houses like garlands of flowers. But those beau- 
tiful women did not return their salutations, and 
the victorious generals saw what they had rarely 
seen — that the ladies did not accept their hom- 
age — that they looked down on them with grave, 
mournful mien — nay, that most of those charm- 
ing faces were bathed in tears, not such as well 
from joy, but from grief and anger. 

Napoleon had taken as little notice of the jubi- 
lant cheers of the crowd as of the tears of the 
ladies. He rode on, absorbed in his reflections, 
toward the royal palace. The bells of the cathe- 
dral — in the lower vaults of which the remains 
of the royal family were reposing ; in the upper 
halls of which the solemn wedding ceremonies of 
the kings and princes and princesses of Prussia 
had always been celebrated — greeted with joyous 
notes the triumphant enemy, and the doors of the 
palace opened to him. In the brilliant halls in 
which formerly the submissive vassals and func- 
tionaries of the king had done homage to their 
sovereign, were now assembled the same persons, 
as well as the officers and cavaliers of the court, 
to receive the French emperor as their sovereign 
and master. There were in those halls seven 
ministers of the king, the members of the muni- 
cipality of Berlin, with the two burgomasters ; the 
high dignitaries of the clergy of both confessions, 
and the officers of the different tribunals; the 
members of the royal household, headed by the 
king’s master of ceremonies. Count von Neale. 
And all these gentlemen had come to present 
their respects to the man who had routed their 
army, driven their king and queen from the capi- 
tal, and transformed their city into a French pre- 
fecture. 

The broad folding-doors opened, and the grand 
marshal walked through the halls, crying in a 
ringing voice, “His majesty the emperor!” A 
profound and solemn silence ensued. The eyes 
of all were turned toward the door by wffiich the 
emperor was to enter. He appeared on the 
threshold, as impassive as ever. But the silence 
continued; the shouts of “ Vive V Emperexir V 
which had greeted Napoleon in the streets, had 
not penetrated within the white hall, where the 
statues of the Hohenzollerns were standing. But 
this silent greeting, which might seem too much 
to the ancestors of the king, did not satisfy the 
little soul of the proud conqueror. The grand 
marshal approached to introduce the master 
of ceremonies, Count von Neale, and to inquire 


whether the latter would be allowed to present 
the several dignitaries to his majesty. 

“ Ah,” exclaimed Napoleon, “ you are the 
Count von Neale, whose daughter is so enthusiastic 
and warlike an Amazon.* The women of Ber- 
lin, headed by your queen, were bent upon hav- 
ing war ; behold the result! You ought to 
keep your family in bounds, sir ; you ought not 
to permit your children to indulge in such sense- 
less military tirades. Assuredly, I do not want 
war — not that I am distrustful of my own strength, 
but because the blood of my subjects is too pre- 
cious to me, and because it is my first duty to 
shed it only for their honor and security. The 
population of Berlin is only a victim of the war, 
while the instigators of the hostilities between 
France and Prussia have escaped. But I will hu- 
miliate and impoverish the court-aristocracy, who 
dared to oppose me, and make them beg their 
bread in foreign lands.” 

The Count von Neale, pale and trembling, stam- 
mered a few unintelligible words and intended to 
withdraw, withered and crushed by the emperor’s 
anger. But the searching eyes of Napoleon were 
firmly and steadfastly fixed on him, and, as if 
guessing his innermost thoughts, he said, in a 
cold, disdainful voice, “ Kemain and do your du- 
ty ! ” The Count von Neale, therefore, was obliged 
to stay ; he had to introduce to the emperor the 
officials and dignitaries, after the chancellor had 
previously presented to him the seven ministers 
of Prussia. 

The persons ordered to appear at this audience 
had formed in line on both sides of the white 
hall, and the emperor walked slowly across the 
wide apartment, while the Count von Neale, who 
was immediately behind him, announced in a loud 
voice the names and positions of those standing 
in the first line. 

“ Sire,” he said, pointing to two gentlemen, 
adorned with costly golden chains, standing in 
front of the line, “ sire, the two burgomasters and 
the members of the municipality of Berlin.” 

“ I know these gentlemen,” said Napoleon, and 
his face assumed a milder air. “ Both of you be- 
longed to the deputation that wished to present 
to me at Potsdam the keys of Berlin. You as- 
sured me at that time that the rumors which had 
been circulated with regard to this city were en- 
tirely unfounded ; that the citizens and the mass 
of the people had been opposed to the war, and 

* The French police had captured, a few days previous 
to the commencement of the war, a letter, written by the 
young Countess von Neale, containing the following pas- 
sage: “Napoleon does not want war; he must be com- 
pelled to wage it.” Napoleon had read this letter. 


NAPOLEON’S ENTKY INTO BERLIN. 


43 


that there was not one sensible man who had not 
clearly foreseen the dangers threatening the coun- 
try. I have now seen at my entry that you were 
right; the good people of this city are not to 
blame for this war, and only a handful of old 
women and young officers brought about this 
mischief. The visit of the Emperor Alexander is 
the cause of the events which have proved so 
disastrous to Prussia ; and next, the change 
which that visit produced in the feelings of the 
queen, who, from a timid and modest lady, was 
quickly trcansformed into a restless and warlike 
Amazon. She suddenly insisted on having a regi- 
ment of her own, and on being present at the 
meetings of the council of state; she directed 
the affairs of the government so skilfully as to 
bring it in a few days to the verge of ruin. I 
shall assuredly know how to distinguish those 
who instigated the war from those who tried to 
avoid it. I shall chastise the former and reward 
the latter. Had your king not been so weak — had 
he not allowed himself to be led by a faction 
which, oblivious of the true welfare of the state 
and of the sovereign, did their best to exasperate 
him against me, he would not be where he is. 
But my enemies endeavored to intimidate him, 
and managed to frighten him by all sorts of dem- 
onstrations. You, gentlemen of the municipal- 
ity, ought to have taken steps to inform the king 
correctly of the opposition of the citizens of Ber- 
lin to a war with Prance. You will take care 
now to preserve good order in the capital.” 

“Sire,” ventured the first burgomaster, in a 
timid and humble voice, “ your majesty has seen 
to-day, from the enthusiasm of the citizens, what 
spirit is animating them.” 

The emperor bent a rapid, inquiring glance 
on him, and seemed not to have heard his words. 
“ As a matter of course,” said Napoleon, in a 
loud and angry voice, “ no more windows must 
be broken by the mob ! You have to see to it 
that such brutalities do not occur again. My 
brother the King of Prussia ceased to be king on 
the day when he did not cause Prince Louis Fer- 
dinand to be hung for instigating the mob to break 
the windows of his ministers.” 

Napoleon walked on without giving time to the 
burgomaster for a reply or justification ; and when 
the Count von Neale presented to him the mem- 
bers of the tribunals, his brow was serene, and 
his face assumed the gentle, winning air which 
always exercised so irresistible an influence on 
those on whom the sunshine of his imperial kind- 
ness shed its rays. 

The emperor conversed with these gentlemen 
about the peculiarities of the administration of 


justice in Prussia, and listened to their replies 
and explanations with polite attention. 

“ Your administration of justice seems to con- 
tain many excellent features,” said he, musingly. 
“Your laws have a splendid foundation of equal- 
ity, and cannot be arbitrarily perverted and 
abused to shield wrong and injustice. I am aston- 
ished that, with this code of Frederick II. in your 
hand, you were not able to render harmless and 
silence forever all those seditious and revolution- 
ary spirits that recently infested Berlin, and now 
have made Prussia so unhappy. But, instead of 
suppressing this agitation in time, you looked on 
idly, while miserable scribblers and journalists, 
influenced by women, constantly added fuel to 
the fire. I have been told of a contemptible 
journal in this city which is said to have preached 
war against France with a rabid fanaticism. You 
ought to have silenced the madman who edited 
it. Why did not you do so ? ” 

“ Sire, the laws of our country do not permit 
us to suppress the free expression of opinion, and 
the discussion of public affairs. So long as the 
periodicals, newspapers, and other publications, 
do not attack the existing laws, or incite the peo- 
ple to riots, high-treason, or sedition, we are not 
allowed to interfere with them. Every citizen 
has the right to utter his opinion publicly and 
frankly, provided he does so in a decent and law- 
ful manner.” 

“ That is to say, you have a free press,” ex- 
claimed Napoleon, “ and grant to every outsider 
the right of speaking of things, about which he 
does not know any thing. With a free press, no 
monarchy can be maintained, especially in times 
of danger and convulsions. You see whither 
your so-called free discussion of public affairs has 
carried you ! Your journalists preached war, and 
nothing but war ; they irritated the people, and 
made the king believe that they were the organs 
of public opinion, while, in fact, they were but 
the echoes of the officers of the guard, and of 
the foolish women who were bent on having war. 
Your queen has used the newspapers as a weapon 
to exasperate and excite her husband. Like 
Marie Antoinette of France, and Marie Caroline 
of Naples, Louisa of Prussia has become the evil 
genius of her country. The Turks are perfectly 
right in keeping their women imprisoned. It is 
the best that can be done.” He nodded to the 
gentlemen, and, passing on, allowed the Count von 
Neale to present to him the dignitaries of the 
Church. 

“ The members of the clergy, I believe, ought 
to be content with me,” said Napoleon, with a 
smile, which embellished his features as with a 


44 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


sunshine of grace and sweetness. “ It was I who 
restoi’ed the Church in France ; hence, I need not 
tell you how important and indispensable I beheve 
religion and the Church to be for the welfare of 
nations. Great tasks and great duties are in- 
trusted to the hands of the clergy. Endeavor to 
fulfil them faithfully, gentlemen. Above all, 
avoid meddling with politics. Pay exclusive at- 
tention to your own atfairs, and do as the gospel 
commands you : ‘ Render unto Caesar the things 
which are Caesar’s.’ ” 

He turned toward Mr. Erman, counsellor of the 
supreme consistorial court, and dean of the French 
congregation, and cast a piercing glance on the 
venerable, white-haired clergyman. 

“You, above all, sir, should not forget those 
words,” said Napoleon, in a loud voice. “ For 
you are a Frenchman, and it is your duty, there- 
fore, wherever you may be, to educate faithful and 
devoted subjects to your country. You might 
have done a great deal of good in this city by your 
commanding talents and eloquence. You ought 
to have opened the eyes of the population as to 
their true interests and the misery that necessa- 
rily would be entailed on them by a war against 
France. You failed to do so ; you were silent 
while the fanatical war-faction was clamoring ; 
and while the reckless pranks of the officers of 
the guard were intimidating good and sagacious 
patriots. I know very well that you are not to be 
blamed for those excesses, but you ought to have 
tried to prevent them. I know the faction whose 
fanaticism against France has done so much mis- 
chief. I know that the queen was at the head of 
it. As Marie Antoinette once gained over to her 
side the lifeguards at that celebrated banquet, 
Louisa did the same with the officers of the Prus- 
sian guard. She is, therefore, responsible for 
the savage war-cries and the crazy arrogance of 
the officers. This woman, who has become as 
fatal to her people as was Helen to the Trojans — 
this woman is the only cause of the disasters of 
Prussia ! ” 

His voice rolled like tthunder through the hall ; 
his eyes flashed fire, and all the beholders, seized 
with dismay, turned pale and cast down their eyes. 
Only old Counsellor Erman’s face betrayed no fear 
or anxiety. He looked at the emperor with a 
grave and almost angry air, and his voice inter- 
rupted the ominous stillness which had followed 
Napoleon’s words. 

“ Sire,” he said, loud enough to be beard by 
every one, “your majesty says that the queen is 
the only cause of the disasters of Prussia — that 
she brought about the war, and excited and insti- 
gated the evil passions of the reckless ! Sire, that 


is not true ! The queen is as generous as she is 
virtuous ! ” 

The assembly felt as if thrilled by an electric 
shock — all fixed their eyes timidly and anxiously 
on Napoleon — every one held his breath to hear 
his reply, and felt already in advance the most 
profound compassion for the unhappy old man 
who w’ould be crushed with the victor’s wrath. 
But the emperor was silent. Only for a moment 
his eyes flashed — and his glances seemed to pierce 
through the old man. Napoleon said nothing. 
He seemed not to have heard Erman’s words, but 
turned with perfect composure toward the Catholic 
clergy, to converse with them about the interests 
of their Church. He appeared, however, wearied ; 
passed in a more hurried manner to the rest who 
were introduced to him, and evidently hastened to 
finish the audience. He then greeted the assem- 
bly with a nod and left the hall, followed by the 
grand marshal and his two chamberlains. 

For an instant all remained immovable. Every 
one felt as if a brilliant meteor had flitted past 
him, and as if his vision were too much dazzled 
to be able to see any thing else. Then, however, 
all turned their eyes once more to Erman, who 
stood at his place, calm and smiling, and looked 
almost compassionately at those who had hitherto 
called themselves his friends, but were not cou- 
rageous enough now to approach him, and avoided 
meeting his glances. He then quietly turned, and, 
followed by the other clergymen, walked toward 
the door. But those who had stood before him 
had also commenced leaving the hall, and in -con- 
sequence the passage was crowded. Erman sud- 
denly saw himself in the midst of the throng, 
that slowly moved onward, but it was apparent- 
ly no mere accident that the crowd was densest 
around him. Some hastily seized his hand ; others 
whispered to him; “Flee! conceal yourself!” 
Others again gazed at him with eyes full of ten- 
derness and emotion, and murmured : “We 
thank you in the name of all the faithful ! ” But 
constantly the low words of “ Flee ! conceal your- 
self!” were repeated. But the venerable man 
looked with a calm, proud smile at those who sur- 
rounded him, and said in a loud and firm voice, 
“ I will not flee ! I will not conceal myself! ” 

Just at the moment when Erman, followed by 
his timid friends and secret admirers, was about 
to cross the threshold, a loud voice was heard to 
exclaim, “ Counsellor Erman ! ” 

“Here I am,” he replied, turning around, as 
well as all the rest. 

A low murmur of horror pervaded the assem- 
bly ; their faces turned pale, and their brows were 
clouded. The moment so much feared had ap- 


NAPOLEON AND TALLEYRAND. 


45 


parently come — Erraan could not escape, or con- 
ceal himself ; for he who had called out his name 
was none other than Duroc, the emperor’s grand 
marshal, who had evidently been sent by his 
master. Those who hitherto had been so anxious 
to leave the hall, and thronged so eagerly round 
the courageous old man, now stood still, and the 
grand marshal walked through the opened ranks 
directly toward him. Every one seemed to hold 
his breath to listen, and even to stop the pulsa- 
tions of his heart, to hear the order for Erman’s 
arrest. 

The grand marshal now stood before Erman, 
who had seen him coming, and advanced a step 
to meet him. Duroc bowed, and said in a loud 
voice, “ His majesty the emperor has ordered me 
to invite Counsellor Erman, of the supreme con- 
sistorial court, to dine with him to-morrow at 
noon. His majesty desires me to tell you that he 
is anxious to make the acquaintance of a man who 
is so faithful and courageous a servant of the 
royal family, and endowed with suflScient mag- 
nanimity and boldness to defend the absent and 
accused. His majesty has instructed me to assure 
you that, far from disapproving your conduct, he 
highly esteems and admires it, for the emperor 
knows how to appreciate every thing that is high- 
minded and noble.” 


CHAPTER XI. 

NAPOLEON AND TALLEYRAND. 

Napoleon was rapidly pacing his cabinet. His 
face was pale and gloomy; his lips firmly com- 
pressed, as they always were when he was angry, 
and his eyes flashed with rage. He held two 
papers in his hand : one of them was in writing, 
the other contained printed matter ; and, when- 
ever his eyes glanced at them, he clinched his small 
hand, adorned with diamonds, and crumpled the 
papers. 

The emperor’s anger, which filled with trem- 
bling and dismay every one who had to approach 
him in such moments, had no effect, however, on 
the man who stood in the middle of the room sup- 
porting one of his hands on the table covered with 
maps and papers, and with the other playing with 
the lace frill protruding from his velvet waistcoat. 
His small, twinkling eyes followed calmly and 
coldly every motion Napoleon made. Whenever 
his anger seemed to increase, a scarcely percepti- 
ble, contemptuous smile played on the lips of this 
man, and a flash of hatred, and, withal, of scorn 
burst from his eyes. But this never lasted longer 


than a moment ; his pale and sickly face im- 
mediately resumed its- impenetrable aspect, and 
the smile of a polite courtier reappeared on his 
lips. This was Talleyrand, first minister of the 
emperor — Talleyrand, who had originally served 
the Church as a priest, then the republic as a min- 
ister — who had deserted and betrayed both to be- 
come minister of the empire, and to combat and 
deny all the principles he had formerly advocated 
and declared to be necessary for the welfare of 
France. 

“ Talleyrand,” exclaimed Napoleon, in an angry 
voice, standing still in front of the minister, “ I 
will set a rigorous example. I will trample upon 
this haughty Prussian aristocracy that still dares 
to brave me — I will let it feel the consequences of 
continued opposition to me! What audacity it 
was for this Prince von Hatzfeld, while I was ap- 
proaching with my army, and already master of 
Prussia, 'to continue sending information to his 
fleeing king and to the ministers, and to play the 
spy 1 Ah, I am going to prove to him that his 
rank will not protect him from being punished 
according to his deserts, and that I have traitors 
and spies tried and sentenced by a court-martial, 
whether they be of the common people or the 
high-born. Both of us have seen times when 
the heads of the nobility were knocked off like 
poppies from the stalks ; and we will remind this 
aristocracy, which relies so confidently on its 
ancient privileges, of the fact that such times may 
come for Prussia too, unless those high-born gen* 
tlemen desist from their arrogant conduct, and 
submit to me humbly and obediently. Cause the 
Prince von Hatzfeld to be arrested immediately ; 
order a court-martial to meet within twenty-four 
hours, to try the traitor and spy. This letter will 
be proof sufficient ; nothing further is necessary 
to pass sentence of death upon him.” 

“And will your majesty really carry out the 
sentence ? ” asked Talleyrand, in his soft, insin- 
uating voice, and with his polite smile. 

Napoleon flashed one of his fiery glances at 
him. “ Why do you put that question to me ? ” 
he said, harshly. 

“ Sire, because I believe excessive rigor might 
not accomplish the desired purpose. Instead ot 
humiliating and prostrating the aristocracy, it 
might bring about the reverse, and incite them 
to sedition and insurrection. Sometimes leniency 
does more good than severity, and, at all events, 
in applying either, the character of the nations to 
be subdued ought to be consulted. The Italians 
are easily restrained by severe measures, for they 
are, on the vvhole, cowardly and enervated ; and, 
when the straw-fire of their first impetuosity has 


46 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


gone out, they feel enthusiastic admiration for 
him who has placed his foot on their neck, and is 
crushing them. But the Germans are a more 
tenacious and phlegmatic nation. They resemble 
the white bulls I have seen in Italy, who fulfil 
with proud composure their daily task. When 
the driver urges them but a little with the iron 
point of the stick, they work more actively and 
obediently; but when he wounds too deeply, 
their phlegm disappears, and they rush in fury 
against him who has irritated them too mueh.” 

“ And you believe that the German white bull 
is already irritated ? ” asked Napoleon, morosely. 

“ Yes, sire ! It is time to appease him, if he is 
not to grow savage and furious. The execution 
of Palm has stirred up a good deal of ill feel- 
ing, and it would be prudent to counteract it as 
much as possible. Your majesty may menace 
and frighten the supercilious and arrogant aristoc- 
racy of Prussia; but when they are trembling 
and terrified, then - exercise clemency and for- 
bearance, which is the best way of subduing the 
refractory.” 

The emperor made no reply, but crossed the 
room repeatedly. He then stood still once more 
closely in front of Talleyrand, and looked him full 
in the face. ^ 

“I hold to my decision,” he said coldly. “I 
must have the Prince von Hatzfeld immediately 
arrested, and the court-martial must meet within 
twenty-four hours for the purpose of trying him as 
a traitor and spy.” He stepped to his desk, and 
hastily wrote a few words on a piece of paper. He 
himself, having folded, sealed, and directed it, 
rang the bell. “ Take this,” he said to the officer 
who had entered the room. “ Send immediately 
an orderly with this letter to Governor Clarke. He 
must have it in five minutes.” 

When the officer had withdrawn, Napoleon 
turned once more toward Talleyrand. “Let no 
one dare talk to me about mercy,” he said, “ for I 
shall grant it to no one — neither to you, nor to the 
prince’s wife, of whose beauty Duroc once in- 
formed me. If the Germans resemble the Italian 
bulls, I will break off their horns, and extract 
their teeth — then they will be powerless. Not a 
word, therefore, about mercy, either for the aris- 
tocracy, or for the journalists. These miserable 
scribblers must be made to tremble, and lay their 
pens aside. Wliat language that miserable writer 
has dared to use against me in this paper — what 
sarcasms and sneers he has taken the liberty of 
uttering against me ! And the King of Prussia 
did not have him arrested ! this weak-headed gov- 
ernment permitted the libeller quietly to pursue 
his infamous course ! ” 


“ Sire, the editor of this paper, called The Tele- 
graphy I am told was one of the intimate friends 
and followers of Prince Louis Ferdinand.” 

“ And, consequently, also one of the friends of 
the queen ! ” added Napoleon, quickly. “ That 
woman has disdained no expedient to wage war 
against me ; she hates me intensely, and with 
more energy than her feeble husband. I wiU pay 
her for this hatred, and she shall feel what it is 
to provoke my anger. Yes, I will humiliate her. 
She may now, perhaps, repent with tears what 
she has done. She is already a fugitive. I will 
drive her into the remotest corner of her country, 
and compel this proud queen to bow before me in 
the dust, and beg me on her knees for mercy ! But 
I will not have mercy upon her ; I will be inexora- 
ble ! My anger shall crush her and her house, as 
it has crushed whosoever dared oppose me. Woe 
unto those who have been her wdlling tools ; they 
shall atone for having served her hatred against 
me ! — Is any thing known about the fellow who 
edited this paper, and wrote these wretched 
articles ? ” 

“ Sire, the editor is a certain Professor Lange, 
one of the most zealous royalists, and especially 
an ardent admirer of the queen.” 

“ Then he has fled with her, I suppose, and she 
will instigate him on the way to pen new slanders, 
which, by virtue of the licentiousness of the press, 
he will utter against me ? ” 

“ No, sire, he has not fled, but kept himself 
concealed here; our police, however, ferreted 
out his whereabouts and arrested him. It re- 
mains for your majesty to decree what is to be 
done with him.” 

“ He shall be’ a warning example to the Ger- 
man scribblers, and remind them of the penalty in- 
curred by those who stir up resistance against me 
by their insults and sneers. I will silence these 
libellers once for all, and destroy their contempti- 
ble free press by the executioner’s axe. The 
punishment inflicted upon Palm seemed not suf- 
ficient — let M. Lange, then, be another warning 
to them. Let him die as Palm died ! ” 

“Your majesty, then, will give to the sentimen- 
tal Germans another martyr, to whom they will 
pray, and whose death will increase their enthu- 
siasm ? Sire, martyrs are like fools. ‘ One fool 
makes many others,’ and thus we might say also, 

‘ One martyr makes many others.’ Suppose you 
have this M. Lange shot to-day, because he is a 
faithful adherent of the queen, and has written in 
accordance with her views — to-morrow pamphlet- 
eers will spring up like mushrooms — there will 
be more libels against your majesty, written by 
those having a vain desire of dying for their 


NAPOLEON AND TALLEYRAND. 


beautiful queen, and in the hope that she would 
shed tears for them, as she did for M. Lange.” 

“ Ah,” exclaimed Napoleon, scornfully, “ you 
are strangely inclined to mercy and reconciliation 
to-day. It seems a sickly fever of leniency has 
seized you. Then you think I ought to pardon 
this miserable pamphleteer instead of punishing 
him ? ” 

“ Sire, I believe this fellow will be much more 
severely punished if we do not make him a 
martyr, but only use him as a tool as long as it 
suits us. As this Professor Lange is so well 
versed in writing pamphlets, and sending libellous 
articles into the world, let him continue his trade ; 
only let him be ordered to point his weapons 
against the queen, instead of your majesty, and 
to revile her as zealously as he reviled you.” 

“ And do you believe he will stoop so low as to 
eat his own words, and to convict himself of 
lying ? I was told he had hitherto glorified 
Louisa of Pmssia, and abused me, with an almost 
frantic enthusiasm.” 

“ Sire, let us threaten him with death — ^let us 
offer him money. He will succumb to fear and 
avarice. I know these journalists. They are 
cowardly, and always in pecuniary trouble. Lange 
will turn his poisoned arrows against the queen, 
and the admirer will become her accuser.” 

Napoleon, frowning, looked musingly at the 
flPor. “What a miserable race these men are ! ” 
he muttered. “ One must devour them in order 
not be devoured by them. Well, then,” he added, 
in a loud voice, “ you may try it. Let us turn 
the weapons which the fanatical queen has sharp- 
ened against us, against herself. But the accu- 
sations must be grave and well-founded. The 
eyes of this foolish nation must be opened. We 
must show to it that this woman, whom it worships 
as a chaste Lucretia, as a beautiful saint, is noth- 
ing but a very pretty lady with a well-developed 
form, endowed with little mind, but much co- 
quetry, and who, so far from being a saint, has a 
very human heart, and has had many an adven- 
ture. If M. Lange is willing to write in this 
strain, I will pardon him.* Tragedy must be some- 
times transformed into a farce, that the stupid 


* Talleyrand’s prediction was fulfilled. Threats of 
capital punishment, and promises of ample rewards, 
transformed the editor of the Telegraph into as enthu- 
siastic an admirer of Napoleon as he had formerly been 
of Queen Louisa ; and, after having hitherto written 
nothing but fulsome eulogies, he now did not shrink 
from publishing the most shameless libels against her. 
The immediate consequence was, that the Telegraph 
lost in a single day most of its subscribers. But Lange 
continued publishing slanderous articles against Louisa, 
for the French government paid him for it. 


people may laugh at what they were originally 
inclined to weep for. Ah, that Queen of Prus- 
sia was bent upon waging war against me ! 
She shall have it. We will wage war against 
each other ; let it be a mortal combat. Did the 
Prussian ambassador accept our terms ? ” 

“ Sire, he was undecided yesterday ; but he will 
not be to-day.” 

“ Why not ? ” 

“ Sire, a courier has just arrived, and I came to 
communicate to your majesty the news. He is 
from Stettin, and informed me that that fortress 
has capitulated. Our hussars took possession of 
it.” 

The emperor smiled. “Well,” he said,“when 
hussars take fortresses, new military tactics will 
have to be invented, and the walls of fortresses 
might just as well be razed. But you are right. 
The fall of Stettin is a most important event, and 
the government will have to make up its mind to 
accept our terms. We ought not, however, to 
accelerate the peace negotiations too much. The 
terms which we have offered to Prussia are toler- 
ably favorable ; if more couriers of this descrip- 
tion should arrive, we ought to render the terms 
more onerous, and the peace more humiliating. 
Try to delay the definite settlement with the Prus- 
sian ambassador ; it is not necessary for us to 
sign the treaty so soon. Let us await further 
news.” 

Just then the door opened, and the valet de 
chamhre appeared, announcing a courier just ar- 
rived, who desired to deliver to his majesty dis- 
patches from the Grand-duke of Berg. Napoleon 
made a sign to him. The door opened, and the 
courier, in his dusty and bespattered travelling- 
costume, entered the room. 

“ Where is the grand-duke ? ” asked the em- 
peror, quickly. 

“ Sire, in Prenziau.” 

“Ah, in Prenziau!” exclaimed Napoleon. 
“ The gates have opened to him, then ! Give me 
your dispatches, and then go and take rest. I 
see you stand in need of it 1 ” 

“ Sire, I have been ten hours on horseback, and 
have just dismounted.” 

“ Breakfast shall be served you. Apply for it 
to the valet de chamhre in the anteroom. Go I ” 

The courier had not yet closed the door of the 
cabinet after him, when Napoleon opened the 
dispatches, and rapidly glanced over their con- 
tents. With a proud, triumphant smile he turned 
toward Talleyrand. “ I was right in saying that we 
ought to delay the definite conclusion of peace,” 
he said; “we shall now be able to impose more 
onerous conditions on Prussia, and she will have 


48 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


to submit to them. The Grand-duke of Berg has 
sent me excellent news. The corps of the Prince 
von Hohenlohe has capitulated near Prenzlau. 
The Prussian army exists no more. Ten thousand 
men, with three hundred and twenty-five oflScers, 
about two thousand horses, and fifty-four field- 
pieces, have been captured by our forces. Ten 
thousand men ! Now, if ever I should live to see 
the disgrace of such a surrender of any of my 
own corps, I would make peace with the enemy 
for the sole purpose of recovering my cap- 
tured troops, and of having the miserable officers 
shot who entered into such a capitulation. Ten 
thousand men, and three hundred officers ! Truly, 
my brother the King of Prussia is unlucky, and 
I am sure the beautiful queen will bitterly repent 
of her hatred against me. ” 

“ Sire,” said Talleyrand, with a malicious smile, 
“it is said there is but one step from hatred to 
love. Who knows whether the gods, in order to 
punish the queen for her audacity, will not cause 
her to take this step ? Who knows whether her 
intense hatred is not even now but the mask 
which conceals her love and admiration for your 
majesty ? Beware of approaching this beautiful 
Helen, lest your own hatred should run the risk 
of being transformed into love,” 

“Ah,” said Napoleon, angrily, “ were my heart 
capable of such a change, I should tear it with 
my own hands from my breast in order to smother 
its desires. Thqugh she were the most beautiful 
woman in the world, and offered her love to me, 
I should turn away from her, and hurl my con- 
tempt and hatred into her face. She has offended 
me too grievously, for it is she who has destroyed 
all my plans, and instigated her husband to as- 
sume a hostile attitude. France and Prussia are 
destined to be friends, and a war against Prussia 
is for France equivalent to chaining her right 
hand. If Prussia had remained my faithful ally 
last year, if she had not joined the third coalition, 
our united armies at that time would have seen 
not only Germany at our feet, but all Europe. 
Yet the queen would not have it thus ; childish and 
passionate, like all women, she did not consult her 
reason, but only her feelings ; and, as her haughty 
heart could not bear the idea of accepting the 
friendship and alliance of an emperor who had 
not been bom under a royal canopy, she preferred 
exasperating her husband against me, and plun- 
ging Prussia into misery, distress, and disgrace. 
For this capitulation of Prenzlau is a disgrace, 
and if I am glad of it as an enemy, because it 
is advantageous to me, it causes me to blush 
as a soldier, because it disgraces the whole mil- 
itary profession. Ah, there is justice in Heaven, 


and a Providence is directing our affairs on 
earth.” 

“Ah, your majesty believes in such things?” 
asked Talleyrand, with a sneer. “You believe 
there is a God who makes it His business to direct 
the world and mankind, and to dabble in the 
trade of princes and diplomatists ? ” 

“As I have not been ordained a priest like 
you, and never have served the Church, I may be 
allowed to believe in God,” said Napoleon, smil- 
ing. “Yes, I believe in Providence, and I be- 
lieve it was a dispensation of Providence that 
those arrogant officers of the guard, who thought 
it was only necessary to show themselves in or- 
der to drive away the French, and who went so 
far in their madness as to whet their swords on 
the doorsteps of the house of our ambassadors, 
should now be duly humiliated and chastised. 
For the guards of Potsdam and Berlin are 
among the captured of the corps of the Prince 
von Hohenlohe, and they will soon arrive in Ber- 
lin. A royal prince also, the brother of Prince 
Louis Ferdinand, is among the prisoners.” 

“Your majesty is right,” said Talleyrand, “ we 
are able now to impose more rigorous terms on 
Prussia. If your majesty permit, I will imme- 
diately enter into negotiations concerning this 
point with M. de Lucchesini. He is at present 
awaiting me.” 

“ Inform him of the latest news ; that will ren- 
der him submissive. You know my intentions, 
and know, too, what I expect Prussia to do. The 
king offered Baireuth to me instead of the contri- 
bution of one hundred million francs which I had 
asked for. Such a substitution is out of the 
question now. Besides, we shall add the follow- 
ing conditions; Prussia, in case Russia declares 
war against Turkey, will ally herself with France, 
and march her whole army against the emperor 
of Russia.” 

“ Ah, sire, you are bent, then, on breaking the 
heart of the beautiful Louisa?” asked Talley- 
rand, laughing cynically. 

“ It is my reply to the oath she and her hus- 
band took with Alexander at the grave of Fred- 
erick II. Go, and inform Lucchesini of the latest 
news and of my conditions.” 

“Your majesty promised to be so gracious as 
to receive this forenoon the ambassadors of the 
petty German princes, who have been begging for 
an audience since yesterday morning.” 

“ It will not by any means hurt these petty dig- 
nitaries to practise a little the virtue of patience,” 
said Napoleon, harshly. “ I shall admit them to- 
morrow, in order to get rid at length of their 
complaints. Do you still remember that I in- 


NAPOLEON AND TALLEYRAND. 


49 


stmcted you several months since to draw up the 
necessary reports for the formation of a new state 
in Northern Oerinany, between the Rhine and the 
Elbe ? ” 

“Sire, T carried out your order at that time, 
and delivered to you the report concerning this 
state.” 

“ Yes, it is in my hands, and it is time for us 
to carry out my views in regard to it. You drew 
it up with the pen, and I executed and illustrated 
it with the sword. Both of us, therefore, have 
done our duty. To-morrow I will inform the 
ambassadors of these petty princes of our views 
as to this new state, in order that they may evac- 
uate their own. Go to Lucchesini. I will take a 
ride, and pay a visit to my gardens in Charlotten- 
burg.” 

Talleyrand bowed, and left the eabinet. In the 
large hall contiguous to it, he saw Grand-marshal 
Duroc, who was standing at the farthest window. 
Talleyrand hastened to him as fast as his limping 
leg would permit, and drew the grand marshal, 
who had come to meet him, back ii)to the win- 
dow. “M. Grand marshal,” he said, in a low 
voice, “I am about to turn traitor and to disclose 
to you a seci'et of the emperor. My life is in 
your hands ; if you should inform his majesty of 
what I am about to do, I must perish. Will you 
do so ? ” 

Duroc smiled. “ Your excellency,” he said, 
“lama good patriot, and as I know how indis- 
pensable your life is to the welfare and happiness 
of France, I shall take care not to undertake any 
thing against you ; I should, on the contrary, al- 
ways deem it incumbent upon me to protect the 
life of your excellency, and to attend to your wel- 
fare whenever an occasion offered. You may, 
therefore, safely communicate your secret to me. 
I would die sooner than betray you.” 

“ I thank you,” said Talleyrand, bowing. 
“ Listen, then ; the emperor has issued orders to 
arrest the Prince von Hatzfeld, and to have him 
tried by a court-martial,” 

“Impossible!” ejaculated Duroc, turning pale. 
“ The Prince von Hatzfeld has always been a zeal- 
ous and warm adherent of France, and it was 
precisely on account of this that he was in high 
disfavor with the court party. The inhabitants 
of Berlin also reproach him with having pre- 
vented th^m from defending themselves, and with 
having intentionally foiled to remove the arms 
from the arsenal. What, then, may he have done 
that he should be tried by a French court-mar- 
tial ? ” 

An imperceptible smile passed over Talley- 
rand’s astute features. “ He has written a letter 
4 


to the king,” he said, “ which, if need be, may be 
construed as the letter of a traitor and spy, espe- 
cially since an opportunity is desired to set an 
example, and to intimidate the haughty aristoc- 
racy, because they avoid coming hither and doing 
homage to the conqueror.” 

“ If that be the intention,” sighed Duroc, “ the 
Prince von Hatzfeld is lost. The emperor will be 
inexorable.” 

“ Is it necessary, then, to have some one put to 
death in order to frighten the others ? ” asked 
Talleyrand. “ But you are right. The emperor 
will have no mercy. The court-martial will as- 
semble to-morrow.” 

“ To-morrow ! ” said Duroc, sadly. “ Oh, into 
what distress it will plunge the family! The 
young princess loves her husband passionately; 
she expects to become a mother in a few months, 
and is to lose the father of her child before it sees 
the light ! ” 

Again a smile overspread Talleyrand’s face. 
He inclined closer to the grand marshal and 
placed his small, emaciated hand on Duroc’s vig- 
orous arm. “ My friend,” he said, in a low voice, 
“ you must try to save the prince ! ” 

“ I ? ” asked Duroc, wonderingly. 

Talleyrand nodded. “ Yes, you ! You have 
long known the family ; you have, on your various 
missions to Berlin, been repeatedly at Hatzfeld’s 
house, and, as a matter of course, the young 
princess in her distress and despair will apply to 
you for advice and assistance. You must pro- 
cure her an interview with the emperor, and she 
will thus obtain an opportunity to implore his 
majesty on her knees to have mercy on her hus- 
band. The whole aristocracy, then, in her per- 
son will humbly kneel before the emperor, and 
they will all be pardoned in the person of the 
prince. My dear sir, you must at all events pro- 
cure the princess an interview with Napoleon.”.; 

“ But did you not tell me that the emperor was 
determined not to pardon the prince, and that the 
court-martial will assemble to-morrow ? ” 

“ I did. I might have added that the emperor, 
when I begged him to have mercy on Hatzfeld, 
angrily rejected my application, and told me he 
would not permit any one to renew it. He was 
very emphatic about it. Even Duroc, he said, 
should not dare to conduct the princess to him, 
and thus enable her to implore his mercy.” 

“ Well ? ” exclaimed Duroc. 

“ Well,” said Talleyrand, composedly. “ I be- 
lieved I might conclude precisely, from this per- 
emptory order, that he wished to indicate to me 
that he was inclined to pardon the offender in 
this manner.” 


60 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


“ What ! ” said Duroc, smiling, “ the emperor 
orders us not to admit the Princess von Hatzfeld ; 
he says he will not pardon the prince, and you 
conclude from all this that he will grant her an 
audience and the pardon of her husband ? ” 

“Certainly,” said Talleyrand. “What is lan- 
guage given us for, unless to veil our thoughts ? 
Whenever I have to deal -with sagacious and 
prominent men, I presume that their thoughts 
are just the reverse of what their words express. 
Only simpletons, and men of no position, say 
what they mean. Try it, by all means. Procure 
the princess an interview with the emperor, and 
leave the rest to her eloquence and beauty.” 

“ But I cannot go to her and offer her my in- 
tercession. It would look as though the emperor 
had sent me; and if he then should pardon the 
prince, it would be generally believed to be a 
mere cowjt? de thedtreP 

“You are right. We must avoid by all means 
letting the affair assume such a character,” said 
Talleyrand, smiling. “ If the princess really 
loves her husband, and if she really intends to 
save him, she will naturally first think of you ; 
for you arc acquainted with her and her family, 
and are known to be the emperor’s intimate and 
influential friend. It will be but natural for her 
to invoke your intercession.” 

“ If she does so, I will try, to the best of my 
power, to be useful to her, for I have spent many 
pleasant hours at the prince’s house, and it would 
be agreeable to me to do her a favor. But I am 
afraid you are mistaken. The emperor never 
takes back his word, and if he has said that he 
will have no mercy, and not admit the princess, 
that will be the end of it, and all endeavors of 
mine will be in vain.” 

“ Try it at least,” said Talleyrand. “ Perhaps 
you may accomplish your purpose. But you 
have no time to lose, for, as I have told you al- 
ready, the court-martial is to assemble to-morrow. 
What is to be done, must be done, therefore, in 
the course of to-day.” 


OHAPTEK XII. 

THE PRINCESS VON HATZFELD. 

Grand-marshal Ddroc was pacing his room 
in great agitation. Evening was drawing nigh, 
and still he had not received any intelligence from 
the Princess von Hatzfeld. Yet her husband 
had been arrested in the course of the forenoon 
and taken to the palace, in one of the rooms of 


which he was locked up and kept under strict 
surveillance. The news of his arrest had spread 
rapidly through Berlin, and cast a gloom over the 
whole city. Everywhere in the streets groups of 
pale and grave men were to be seen, who whispered 
to each other this latest dreadful event, and vented 
their anger in secret imprecations. 

All were convinced that the Prince von Hatz- 
feld must die ; every one felt it to be a new hu- 
miliation inflicted upon himself personally, that 
one of the most respected and distinguished men 
in Prussia was to be charged with felony, and 
tried as a common spy. No one doubted that 
the court-martial would pass sentence of death 
upon him ; and that Napoleon would show no 
mercy, nor feel any compassion, could be read in 
his stern and melancholy air when, followed by 
his suite, he rode through the streets to Charlot- 
tenburg. 

All the reproaches heretofore uttered against 
the Prince von Hatzfeld were forgotten; the 'peo- 
ple forgave his weakness, his cowardice, his pre- 
dilection for France. At this hour, wheu he was 
menaced by the universal enemy and oppressor 
they only remembered that he was a German, and 
that the anger of the conqueror ought to make 
him a martyr of the German cause. They whis- 
pered to each other that Napoleon had selected 
the prince merely for the purpose of intimidating 
the opposition by an example of severity, and of 
frightening the royalists. “ He is lost ! ” they 
said, mournfully. “ The emperor will not pardon 
him, for he intends to punish in the prince’s per- 
son ourselves, w'ho love the king and would like 
to send him information concerning the enemy 
and his armies.” 

“ The Prince von Hatzfeld is lost ! ” said Duroc, 
also, as he was uneasily and sadly pacing his 
room. “Yes! This time Talleyrand, in spite 
of all his sagacity, has been mistaken. The em- 
peror does not intend to pardon the prince, for 
he has selected Davoust, Eapp, and Clarke, aa 
members of the court-martial, and they have no 
mercy on those whom their master has accused. 
The princess does not think of coming to me and 
of invoking my intercession. And even if she 
did, I should not be able to assist her. All my 
'supplications would be in vain. The emperor has 
resolved on the prince’s death from policy, not in 
anger ; hence nothing can save him.” 

Just then the door opened, and the footman 
hastily entered. “ Grand marshal,” he said, 
“ there is a veiled lady outside, who insists on see- 
ing you. I have vainly requested her to give me 
her name ; she will only mention it to your excel- 
lency, and — ” 


■ TH^; PRINCESS YON HATZFELD. 


51 


Duroc (lid not longer listen to him. He himself 
hastened into the anteroom, and, offering his arm 
to the lady, conducted her into his cabinet. 

‘‘Go down-stairs, Jean,” he hurriedly said to 
his footman — “ go down-stairs, hasten into the 
Palace Place, and when you see the emperor ap- 
proaching in the distance, return and inform me 
of it.” 

Jean slipped out of the door, and Duroc locked 
it after him. “Well, madame,” he then said, 
“ speak ! We are alone.” 

The lady hastily removed the veil from her face, 
and showed her beautiful, pale features bathed in 
tears. 

“ The Princess von Hatzfeld ! ” exclaimed Duroc, 
successfully feigning an air of great surprise. 

“ Yes, it is I,” she said, breathlessly and with 
quivering lips. “ I come to beseech you to assist 
me! You must do so — you must not desert me ! 
My husband has been arrested 1 He is charged 
with having secretly informed the king of the 
operations of the French army. He is accused of 
"being a spy. Oh, merciful Heaven ! he will die, 
for the emperor is bent on having him executed ; 
he desires to crush and ruin us all 1 Do you 
understand it is my husband ? — he whom others 
charged with being a traitor to his country, be- 
cause, in his generous exertions to avoid blood- 
shed, he always admonished the inhabitants to be 
patient and submissive — he is charged now with 
having, betrayed the emperor, and is to be ex- 
ecuted as a spy ! They have dragged him from 
my side and taken him away. I fainted with 
grief and despair. Oh, I hoped — I wished it were 
death that prostratecl me I But God would not let 
me die ; He preserved my life, that I might try to 
save my husband. The physician advised me to 
remain, and endeavor to take rest. Duroc, how 
can I take rest while the life of my beloved hus- 
band is in danger ? I rose from my couch, for 
the thought flashed through my mind, ‘Duroc 
will assist me in saving him ! ’ And now I am 
here, and beseech you, have mercy on a wife’s 
despair ! Duroc, help me, so that I may save the 
prince! You have a kind and generous heart, 
and the emperor loves you ! Implore him to have 
mercy on my husband ! By all that is dear to 
you, I beseech you, beg for him ! ” And quite 
beside herself, pale and in tears, the young prin- 
cess was about to kneel down before Duroc, but 
he quickly raised her up, and, bowing deeply, 
kissed her cold, trembling hands. 

“I thank you, princess, for having thought of 
and believed in me,” he said. “But I am afraid 
that your faith will be in vain.” 

“Pray for my husband,” she said, sobbing. 


“ You see, I shall die if I lose him. Have pity 
on my youth, and on my unborn child ! Implore 
the emperor to have mercy on the prince ! ” 

“You believe the emperor would listen to 
me ? ” asked Duroc, sadly. “ Then you do not 
know him ; you do not know what he is when he 
is angry. I have been in more than twenty bat- 
tles ; buUets have hissed all around me; death 
was at my side, and I did not tremble, but I trem- 
ble when the emperor is angry. When I behold 
his marble face — his flashing eyes — when his 
voice resounds like the roll of thunder, I compre- 
hend how women faint and men flee. I myself 
feel then what I never felt in the battle-field — I 
feel fear ! ” 

“ Then you will not assist me ! ” exclaimed the 
princess, wringing her hands. “ You will not do 
any thing for him ? And yet he is innocent. My 
noble husband never committed the crime with 
which he is charged. He is no spy — no traitor — 
and yet he is to die ! I have no friend, and the 
only man who I had hoped would aid me deserts 
me, because he is afraid of his master’s frown ! ” 

“ No,” said Duroc, “I do not desert you, I only 
tell you what the emperor is in his wrath ; I only 
tell you that the tempestuous ocean is pleasant, 
and the thunder mild, compared with him in such 
a mood. However, I would gladly expose myself 
to it if I could be useful to you and to your hus- 
band. But it is a vain hope. The emperor would 
not listen to me ; he would interrupt me, and 
order me to be silent. My intercession would 
irritate him even more, and, instead of delajung 
the terrible catastrophe, I should be likely to ac- 
celerate it.” 

“Well,” exclaimed the princess, wringing her 
hands, “ if you yourself dare not speak and beg 
for him, let me. I am not afraid of the emperor’s 
anger, and when a woman clasps his knees and 
implores his mercy, he will at least listen, and his 
heart may be softened. I beseech you to grant 
me this favor — conduct me to the emperor ! Let 
me implore him to pardon my husband ! ” 

“You are right, it is perhaps the only way to save 
his life. Napoleon has a genei’ous heart; your 
tears, perhaps, will touch him, for he cannot bear 
the sight of a weeping woman, and genuine grief 
always moves his heart. But just because he is 
conscious of his weakness, he will avoid seeing 
you, and give stringent orders not to admit any 
one. You must, at present forget your rank. 
You must not insist that the footmen announce 
you, and open the folding-doors, but you must 
make up your mind to appear, without any regard 
to etiquette, before the emperor, and oblige him 
to grant you an audience.” 


52 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


“ Do you not see that I am nothing but a poor, 
unhappy woman, begging for mercy ? ” said the 
princess, with a melancholy smile. “Would I 
have come to you if I thought still of the rules of 
etiquette? Give me an opportunity to see the 
emperor, and, though it were in the open street, 
and thousands standing by, I should kneel down 
before him, and, like a beggar-woman, ask for the 
alms of his mercy — for my husband’s life is in his 
hands ! ” 

“ W ell, if such be your feelings, princess, I hope 
to be able to procure you access to him. We 
must act as generals do in the field, and try to 
outwit the enemy — we must deprive the emperor 
of the possibility of avoiding an audience. After 
his return from Charlottenburg and when once in 
his rooms, all will be in vain ; he will admit no 
one, and close his eai'S against all supplications of 
mine. Hence you must meet him at the moment 
when he enters the palace. You must — 

A rapid knock at the door interrupted him, and 
Duroc hastened to open it. “ Is it you, Jean?” 
he asked. 

“Yes, M. Grand marshal, it is I,” said the foot- 
man, “ I come to inform your excellency that the 
emperor is just riding up the Linden with his 
suite. He will be here in a few minutes.” 

“ All right. Go now, Jean.” 

“ Let us go, too,” said the princess, quickly ap- 
proaching the door. “Give me your arm, M. 
Grand marshal ; I am trembling so, I might sink 
down before appearing in the presence of the em- 
peror ! ” 

“ Come, princess,” said Duroc, compassionately, 
“ lean firmly on me. Heaven will give you strength, 
for you have a noble and fearless heart. Come ! 
I will conduct you to the foot of the staircase, 
which the emperor will have to ascend in order to 
reach his rooms. You may accost him there. 
God and love will impart strength to your 
words ! ” 

With rapid steps they crossed the suite of rooms 
and stepped into the so-called Swiss hall, where 
the orderlies and soldiers of the guard on duty 
that day w^ere assembled. The bearded warriors 
looked surprised at the grand marshal — whose 
face was graver than they had ever seen it in bat- 
tle — and at this lady, hanging on his arm, as 
beautiful and pale as a lily. Duroc, who generally 
had a smile and a pleasant word for the soldiers 
of the guard, the faithful companions of so many 
battles, took no notice of them. He hastened 
W'ith the princess through the hall into the corri- 
dor, and down the broad winding stairs opening 
immediately into the second court-yard of the 
palace. He then conducted har across through 


the inside portal to the splendidly-cai-peted prin- 
cipal staircase in the rear of tlte vestibule. 

“ Await the emperor here,” said Duroc, drawing 
a deep breath. “ He will go up this staircase, and 
he cannot, therefore, avoid meeting you. But he 
has a sharp eye, and if he should see you from 
afar, he might, diviningyour intention, turn around 
and go the other way. Ascend as far as the first 
landing. The emperor cannot see you there be- 
fore he mounts the first steps, and then he will not 
turn back.” 

The princess hastily ascended the steps, w'hich 
she had so often done with a joyous heart, and in 
a brilliant toilet, when repairing to the festivals of* 
the royal court. Duroc followed her, and told the 
sentinel posted at the staircase and presenting 
arms to the grand marshal, that the lady had 
received orders to wait there for the emperor, 
who — 

Just then the drums rolled, and the guard in the 
court-yard was called out. 

“ The emperor ! ” whispered the princess, sink- 
ing down on her knees, clasping her hands and 
praying silently. 

“ The emperor ! ” said Duroc, hastening down- 
stairs into the second court-yard. 

Napoleon rode in at that moment, and Duroc,. 
glancing uneasily at him, saw that his mien was 
even gloomier than previous to his ride ; he saw 
that flashes of anger darted from his eyes, ready to 
wither the first being that should come near them. 
On riding up the Linden to-day, he had again 
missed the wonted music of “ Vive VEmpereur 
and noticed that the people, standing here and 
there in groups in the street, when he passed 
them, had frowned instead of greeting him with 
the usual cheers. This want of respect, this visible 
defiance, had darkened his countenance and em- 
bittered his soul. Just as he alighted from his 
horse, and threw the bridle to Eoustan, the Mame- 
luke, the grand marshal, pale, panting, and in 
visible emotion, stepped up to him. Napoleon 
noticed it, and his angry glance intimidated Duroc. 

“You want to inform me that Berlin is sedi- 
tious ? ” he asked, in a stern, hard voice. “ I am 
not astonished at it. This city seems to be in- 
clined to such movements. But I am about to 
set it a terrible example ; I will show Berlin in 
what manner I punish rebels, and will cure its 
seditious tendency.” Striking his boots with his 
riding-whip, as was his habit when out of humor, 
he crossed the court-yard in the direction of the 
staircase. 

“ No, sire,” said Duroc. “Berlin is not seditious. 
I only intended to implore your majesty’s noble 
and generous heart to grant me a favor.” 


THE PRINCESS YON HATZFELD. 


53 


The emperor looked at him with some surprise, 
and, advancing rapidly, he set foot on the first 
step of the staircase, his eyes directed to the 
grand marshal. “Well, what is it?” he asked, 
ascending the second step, and turning to Duroc, 
who was walking behind him. 

“ Sire, have mercy on the imhappy Princess 
von Hatzfeld ! I beseech your majesty to grant 
her an audience.” 

“ No, no,” exclaimed the emperor, “do not say 
a word about that ! I do not wish to see her, 
I — But what is this ? ” he interrupted himself, 
for he had now reached the first landing, and be- 
held the princess. She had knelt down, and, 
stretching out her clasped hands, fixed her large 
azure eyes on him with a most heart-rending, sup- 
pliant air. 

Napoleon’s brow grew darker than before, and 
with an angry air he asked, “What does this 
mean, M. Grand marshal? Who is this lady? ” 

“ Sire, it is the Princess von Hatzfeld,” replied 
Duroc, in a low voice. “ She implored me to 
procure her an interview with your majesty. 
Sire, pardon me for having conducted her hither, 
that she herself might beg your majesty for this 
audience. I counted on your generous heart, 
which will forgive the wife who comes to implore 
your mercy for her husband.” 

“ Have you not been told that I have expressly 
forbidden this affair to be mentioned to me ? ” 
exclaimed the emperor, in a threatening voice. 
“ The court-martial alone has to judge the prince, 
and I will and must not influence its verdict.” 

“Oh, sire,” exclaimed the princess, who was 
still on her knees, “ have mercy on me ! — have 
mercy on my unhappy husband ! ” Tears choked 
her voice, and ran in torrents over her pale face. 

Napoleon seemed to be moved by this piteous 
spectacle ; his eye became mSder, and his frown 
disappeared. “ Madame,” he said, bending over 
her, “ rise. A lady in your circumstances ought 
to kneel before God only. In consideration of 
your condition, I grant you an interview. Grand 
marshal, follow me, with the princess.” He 
quickly ascended the staircase, and, without look- 
ing round, walked across the halls and rooms to 
his cabinet. Breathless, scarcely touching the 
floor with her feet, and strengthened by her pro- 
found emotion, the princess walked behind him by 
the side of Duroc. 

“ The emperor now enters his cabinet,” whis- 
pered Duroc. “You have reached your destina- 
tion.” 

“My God, have’ mercy on me!” sighed the 
princess, and raised her eyes imploringly to heav- 
en. She was now in the cabinet, and Duroc with- 


drew to the door. Napoleon stood in the middle 
of the room; the brightly-burning fire shed a 
light over his whole figure, and rendered promi- 
nent his stern features. 

“Sire,” exclaimed the princess, falling on her 
knees, “ I beseech you have mercy on my hus- 
band I Mercy, sire, mercy 1 ” 

“Mercy!” ejaculated Napoleon, harshly. “Do 
you know the crime of which your husband stands 
accused ? ” 

“Sire, I know only that he worships your 
majesty ; I therefore do not believe in his guilt,” 
exclaimed the princess. 

“ He has acted the part of a miserable spy,” 
added Napoleon, raising his voice. “After he had 
already sworn to me the oath of obedience and 
fealty, he mailed a letter to the King of Prussia, 
in which he reported to him the number, the 
spirit, and movements of the French troops. 
That is^ the act of a traitor and a spy, and as such 
he will be found guilty by the court-martial to-mor- 
row.” 

“Sire, it is impossible! My husband cannot 
have done any thing of the kind. Oh, believe 
me, your majesty, he is innocent ! He has been 
slandered in order to bring about his ruin ; but 
he is innocent — assuredly he is innocent ! He 
never wrote such a letter ; he cannot have writ- 
ten it ! ” 

The emperor quickly walked to his desk, and 
took from it a paper, which he handed to her. 
“ Here is the letter,” he said. “ Do you know 
your husband’s handwriting ? ” 

The princess fixed her eyes, dimmed by tears, 
on the paper she held in her trembling hands. 
She then uttered a cry, so piercing and heart- 
rending, that Duroc, who was standing at the 
door, felt the tears starting into his eyes. Napo- 
leon himself could not help shuddering. 

“ It is his handwriting ! ” muttered the princess, 
dropping the paper upon the floor. Her quiver- 
ing lips had now no longer the strength and 
courage to repeat her prayer — her head fell on 
her breast, and she uttered only low groans and 
sobbed. 

The emperor seemed to be touched by her 
wordless yet eloquent grief. His manner, which 
had hitherto been stern, became gentle and kind, 
and he looked down with an expression of com- 
passion on that kneeling, despairing form. He 
stooped, picked up the letter, and placed it in 
the hands of the princess. “ Madame,” he said, 
“here is the letter. Do with it what you 
please. For this letter is the only thing pro nng 
his guilt.” 

The princess looked up to him with a joyous. 


54 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


surprised glance. The emperor smiled, and point- 
ed silently to the fireplace. She rose hastily 
from her knees, rushed toward the fire, and threw 
the paper into it. 

“It is burning! It is burning !” she joyfully 
shouted. “ My husband is saved ! My husband 
is free 1 ” and uttering a scream, she tottered 
back, and fell in a swoon at the emperor’s feet. 

Duroc rushed to her aid, and, raising her in 
his arms, was about to carry her out of the room ; 
but the emperor himself rolled an easy-chair tow- 
ard her, and assisted Duroc in placing her on it. 

“Now, call Eoustan,” said Napoleon, “he will 
help you to remove the fainting lady. But quick, 
lest she awake and thank me 1 Conduct her to 
her husband, who is here at the palace. Let her 
personally announce to him that he is free, and 
tell him that he is indebted for his release solely 
to her intercession. Make haste 1 ” 

Eoustan entered as soon as Duroc called him, 
and both of them carried the princess on the easy- 
chair out of the room. The emperor gazed mus- 
ingly after them, and a sarcastic smile played on 
his lips. “Well,” he said to himself, “I believe 
this scene will be an excellent match to the oath 
at the grave of Frederick the Great. It will form 
a glorious subject for an engraving — one that will 
be more honorable to me than was the oath to the 
beautiful queen. Artists will be delighted to pub- 
lish such an engraving, and the good city of Ber- 
lin will say that I am a great man, and know how 
to forgive injuries.” 

Just then Talleyrand, who had the right to enter 
the emperor’s cabinet at any time, without being 
announced, appeared on the threshold. 

“Ah, Talleyrand,” exclaimed Napoleon, “if you 
had come a little earlier, you would have wit- 
nessed a very touching scene. The Princess von 
Hatzfeld was here.” 

“ I know it, sire. I have just met the poor 
fainting lady in the anteroom, and Duroc described 
to me in a few words what had taken place. ITow 
lucky it was that there was a fire in the room 1 ” 

The emperor bent a piercing glance upon Tal- 
leyrand, but the minister’s face was perfectly calm 
and impenetrable. Not the slightest approach to 
a sneer was visible in it. 

“ This proof of generosity will win the hearts 
of all to your majesty,” added Talleyrand. “ Peo- 
ple will forget Palm ; they will only think of 
Hatzfeld, and praise you as a modern Caesar. 
When the letters his enemies had written to Pom- 
pey were shown to Caesar, he refused to read 
them, and threw them into the fire (there is al- 
ways a fire burning in the right place and at the 
right moment), sapng, ‘Although I am sure to 


master my anger, yet it is safer to destroy its 
cause.’ Your majesty has followed Caesar’s exam- 
ple, and, if you have no objection, sire, I shall 
induce Professor Lange to give an enthusiastic and 
eloquent account of this sublime scene to the in- 
habitants of Berlin.” 

“ Then you have already gained him over to our 
side?” asked Napoleon. “The ardent champion 
of the queen has been converted ? ” 

“ He has, sire, thanks to his fear of death, and 
to the five thousand francs which I offered him, 
and which had the same effect upon him as a 
basilisk’s eye on the bird. These German journal- 
ists, it seems, are even more needy than ours, for 
they can be had for less.” 

“ Five thousand francs,” said Napoleon, mus- 
ingly, “ and for that sum he sells his honor, his 
fealty, and his conscience ! Ah, what miserable 
creatures men are, after all, and how right are 
those who despise them 1 ” 

“ Sire, will you permit me to enter and make 
my report ? ” asked Duroc, looking in at the 
door. 

“ Come in, grand marshal. And now tell me, 
how is the poor princess? Has she recovered 
from her swoon ? ” 

“Yes, sire, she was still unconscious when we 
carried her into her husband’s room. He uttered 
a loud cry, rushed to her, and clasped her in his 
arms. She was 'awakened by his kisses and his 
anxious and tender ejaculations. A torrent of 
tears burst forth, and, encircling his neck wdth her 
arms, she exclaimed, ‘ You are saved 1 You are 
mine again 1 the emperor has had mercy on 
me 1 ’ ” 

“ Poor woman ! She was really in despair, but 
behaved very nobly and with a great deal of tact, 
and I am pleased with her.” 

Talleyrand scarcely smiled, as he muttered to 
himself : “ Yes, the emperor is right in being 
pleased with her, for the poor little lady really 
took the sentimental farce for a tragedy, and nei- 
ther she nor Duroc looked behind the scenes.” * 


* This occurrence is strictly historical, hut it is com- 
mented upon by the French and German historians in a 
widely different sense. The French historians, without 
exception, treat it as a touching proof of the emperor’s 
generosity. So does Thiers in his “Histoire du Consu- 
lat et de I’Empire,” vol. vii., p. 148; and the Duchess 
d’Abrantes, in her “ Mdmoires,” vol. xi., p. 240; as w'ell 
as Constant, in his “ M6moires,” vol. iii., p. 880. But the 
German historians treat it as a well-calculated intrigue, 
in order to in'-imidate the nobility by an act of severity, 
and to conciliate them by the subsequent generosity dis- 
played by the emperor. — Vide “ Mdmoires d’un Ilomme 
d’Etat,” vol. ix., p. 316 ; Schlosser’s “ History of the Nine- 
teenth Century,” vol. vi., p. 282; Haeusser’s “History of 


THE SUFPLIANT PRINCES. 


55 


OHAPTER XIII. 

THE SUPPLIANT PRINCES. 

The hour when ’Napoleon was to give audience 
had come, and the ministers of the petty German 
princes, who had hitherto vainly implored Talley- 
rand to procure them admission to the emperor, 
were at length to accomplish their purpose, and 
to receive from the mouth of the conqueror him- 
self the decision of their fate. He was in his cab- 
inet, pacing it with rapid steps, while Talleyrand 
was standing at the desk, and with a pencil enter- 
ing a few notes in his memorandum-book. 

“ No,” said the emperor, sullenly, “ I shall have 
no mercy on these petty German princes, and 
their miserable whining shall not shake my resolu- 
tion. Frederick II., who uttered the most cutting 
sarcasms against these petty sovereigns, would 
have done much better if he had destroyed these 
grubs in the tree of royalty — if he had made a 
new crown from their small coronets. As he 
failed to do so, I shall not imitate the example 
set by him, and my brother Jerome shall wear 
the crown which shall make him a German 
king.” 

“ Your majesty, then, will adopt the plan of a 
new kingdom in Northern Germany, which I had 
the honor to draw up ? ” 

“Yes, but I shall somewhat extend the boun- 
daries, which are too narrow as proposed by you. 
How much of Hesse, for instance, did you incorpo- 
rate with the new kingdom ? ” 

“ Sire, the entire northern part of Hesse, so that 
the cities of Marburg and Hersfeld would form 
the southern boundary of the new kingdom, and 
that Cassel would be a good capital for the new 
king.” 

“And you would leave Hanau and Fulda to 
that perfidious elector ? ” asked Napoleon. “ No, 
no, you are too generous. The Elector of Hesse 
and his whole family deserve to be annihilated, 
and I am not willing to have mercy on him or on 
the other petty tyrants. Brunswick, Nassau, Cas- 
sel, are all friends of England ; they never will be 


Germany,” vol. iii., p. 42. The view taken by the Ger- 
man historians is supported by the letter of the Prince von 
Hatzfeld, which formed the sole basis of the charges pre- 
ferred against him, and which the French take care not to 
lay before their readers. The incriminated passage was 
as follows : “ Officially I know nothing of the French ar- 
my, but that I saw yesterday a requisition upon the mu- 
nicipality of Potsdam, signed by D'Aultanne. The French 
say their army is eighty thousand strong. Others state 
the number at only fifty thousand. The horses of the 
cavalry are said to be greatly exhausted.” 


faithful allies of ours ; it is best, therefore, to de 
pose them.” 

“ The elector has already sent hither two ambas- 
sadors, whom he has authorized to give us the 
most fervent assurances of unwavering fealty,” 
said Talleyrand, smiling. 

“ I know the promises of these legitimate 
princes ! ” exclaimed Napoleon, shrugging his 
shoulders. “ I know what they are worth. So 
long as they are in prosperous circumstances, 
their heart is full of haughtiness and malice. 
There are, in their eyes, no rights of man — only 
rights of princes ; no subjects — only slaves. But 
no sooner are calamities approaching than they 
grow discouraged, and in their cowardice they de- 
grade themselves before their people so far as to 
flatter them in the most fulsome and abject man- 
ner, making promises to them which they are 
neither able nor willing to fulfil. I have been told 
that these loquacious Germans, in their impotent 
wrath, have called me the ‘ Scourge of God ! ’ 
Weil, then, they shall be right. To these petty 
princes who are playing the part of great sov- 
ereigns, and perverting the role of royalty and of 
the throne into a miserable farce — to these carica- 
tures of sovereignty — I will be a ‘ scourge of God ! ’ 
I will scourge them to death! Who are now 
waiting in the anteroom ? ” 

“ Sire, there are the two ambassadors of the 
Elector of Hesse, M. de Malsburg and M. de Lepel ; 
Chancellor von Miiller, ambassador of the Duchess 
of Weimar ; M. de Miinchhausen, ambassador of the 
Duke of Brunswick ; and, finally, a deputation of 
Poles, who have come to do homage to your ma- 
jesty.” 

“ I shall bid the Polish ambassadors welcome,” 
exclaimed Napoleon, emphatically, “ and make 
to these gentlemen many promises representing 
the most brilliant prospects. An insurrection in 
Poland just now would be highly conducive to the 
success of my plans. I will try to bring it about 
by aU the means at my disposal, and accomplish 
my purpose. Hence, I will even go in person to 
Warsaw to fan the enthusiasm of the Poles.” 

“ Sire,” said Talleyrand, “ that will be throwing 
down the gauntlet to the Austrian government, 
and if it intends to preserve its Polish provinces, 
it will have to take it up.” 

“We must take care that Austria does not re- 
gard as a gauntlet the bone that I mean to throw 
to the Poles,” said Napoleon. “ You will instruct 
my ambassador at Vienna to dispel carefully all 
such suppositions and apprehensions, by repairing 
to the Emperor of Austria and assuring him that I 
do not intend to fulfil the promises which I am 
making to the Poles; that, on the contrary, in 


56 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


case a rising should take place in Poland, I will 
take care not to let it reach Galicia, but to confine 
it to the Polish provinces of Kussia and Prussia, 
provided the Emperor Francis maintain his pres- 
ent neutrality. Send instructions to-day to this 
effect to my minister in Vienna. And now I will 
receive the ambassadors.” 

“ Whom will your majesty admit first ? ” 

“ Introduce in the first place the gentlemen 
from Hesse,” said Napoleon, entering the small 
reception-room contiguous to his cabinet. Talley- 
rand crossed this room and entered the adjoining 
audience-hall, in which the plenipotentiaries had 
already waited for an hour. He beckoned the 
two ambassadors of Hesse to approach, and in- 
troduced them, by virtue of his position as min- 
ister of foreign affairs, into the reception-room, 
where the emperor was waiting for them. 

“ Sire,” he said, “ the ambassadors of the 
Elector of Hesse.” 

Napoleon returned only a careless nod to their 
deep obeisances, and went to meet them. 

“ I admire the Elector of Hesse, because he 
dares to remind me of himself,” said the emperor, 
sternly. “ He has been intriguing against me too 
long to suppose that I would deal leniently with 
him. I formerly made friendly offers to him, and 
requested him to join the Confederation of the 
Khine. Then it was time for him to prove his 
friendship and attachment to me, and to stand by 
me as a faithful ally. But at that time he still 
hoped that I would succumb in the struggle with 
Prussia ; the tirades of the officers of the Prussian 
guard resounded in his ears like the music of a 
triumph already obtained over me, and drowned 
the voice of France. But he would not side 
openly with Prussia either ; he would remain neu- 
tral until he could distinctly see which side would 
be victorious. Equivocal in his words and actions, 
he thought only of the safety of his person and 
his riches, and not of his country, his people, and 
his honor ! Let him now receive the punishment 
due to his duplicity ; I shall take possession of 
his states and appropriate his crown. The Elector 
of Hesse has ceased to reign.” 

“ Sire,” said M. de Lepel, in a timid, suppliant 
voice, “the elector dares to appeal to the gen- 
erosity of your majesty. Marshal Mortier, with 
his forces, occupies Cassel and the Hessian states, 
and declares them to be French possessions. The 
elector and his crown-prince only escaped im- 
prisonment by flight.” 

“ They have been but too lucky to be allowed 
to escape,” exclaimed Napoleon, angrily. “ It is 
really time to make a rigorous example for once, 
and to prove to the sovereigns, who regard war as 


a game of hazard, that it may become very serious, 
and that they may lose their crown and life by it. 
That would induce them to weigh well the conse- 
quences of war in their councils of state before 
taking up arms.” 

“ Sire, the elector, our master, repents of what 
he has done, and acknowledges that he was 
wrong,” said M. de Malsburg, humbly. “His 
highness is ready to bow to every thing, and to 
submit to any conditions your majesty may be 
pleased to impose on him.” 

“What does that mean?” asked Napoleon. 
“ What does your elector mean by conditions ? I 
do not remember having imposed any conditions 
on him, for those which I offered six months 
ago were annulled by the events that have since 
taken place.” 

« 

“ But the elector hopes that your majesty, 
nevertheless, will remember them, and show 
favor instead of deserved punishment. Your 
majesty, by so sublime an act of generosity, 
would forever attach our master and his whole 
house to the French empire. You would have 
no more faithful and devoted servant in Germany 
than the Elector of Hesse.” 

“ Sire,” said Talleyrand, approaching suddenly, 
“ I am free to intercede for the Elector of Hesse, 
who is so humbly imploring your majesty to have 
mercy on him ! ” 

“ Sire, have mercy on our unfortunate^m aster, 
who is wandering about in foreign lands, solitary 
and deserted ! ” exclaimed M. de Malsburg, in a 
tremulous voice. 

“ Have mercy on our state, and on our people, 
who are devoted to their legitimate sovereign,” 
said M. de Lepel. “ Sire, our soldiers have been 
disarmed and disbanded; our treasury seized, 
and a French governor-general is carrying on 
the administration of our country in the name 
of your majesty ; and still the sovereign and the 
people hope that Napoleon will have mercy on 
them — Napoleon, who is called the Great, not 
only because he knows how to conquer states, 
but to be generous. Sire, the sword of the con- 
queror builds only visible thrones that may per- 
ish; but the magnanimity of the conqueror 
builds in the hearts of men thrones that are im- 
perishable.” 

“ Ah, I should not like to count too much on 
the throne erected in the heart of the Elector of 
Hesse,” said Napoleon, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Sire, will not your majesty listen at least to 
the promises which these gentlemen are author- 
ized to make in the name of the elector ? ” asked 
Talleyrand. 

“Well, what are they?” asked Napoleon. 


.THE SUPPLIANT PRINCES. 


57 


“ Wliat else have you to say to me in the name 
of your sovereign ? ” 

“ Sire, the elector is ready to submit at discre- 
tion to your majesty,” said M. de Lepel. “ Above 
all, he will hasten to join the Confederation of the 
Rhine. Besides, he is ready to pay a contribu- 
tion — to surrender the fortresses in his states to 
the French, and to incorporate twelve thousand 
men with the French army. He only implores 
your majesty, in consideration of all these sac- 
rifices, to leave him his sovereignty, and the 
possession of his titles, honors, and hereditary 
states.” 

“ No,” ejaculated the emperor. “ No ; he has 
forfeited his sovereignty ; he is unworthy of be- 
ing a prince. There is no dynasty in Germany 
which has been a more persistent enemy to 
France than that of Hesse-Cassel. Your master 
disdained to grasp the hand which I offered to 
him ; the sword has decided now between him 
and me. Fate urges me to infiict upon him the 
punishment he has deserved by his misdeeds. 
Do not tell me the Hessian people sympathize 
with the fate of the elector, and that they are 
fondly attached to their legitimate sovereign. It 
is not true ! The people of Hesse are cursing the 
elector, and they are right in doing so. He sold 
the blood of his subjects to England for many years, 
so that she might wage war against us in both 
hemispheres. To this trade in human beings he 
is indebted for the riches which he has amassed, 
and with which he has now fled from his country. 
Can you deny this, gentlemen ? Can you deny, 
further, that the elector bitterly reproached one 
of his generals, who commanded the troops sold 
to England in America, with having held back his 
men, and with not having led them mercilessly 
enough into the fire ? ' Do not the Hessians know 
that the elector upbraided him in this manner 
only because he received twenty-five ducats for 
every soldier who was killed in battle? Well, 
why do you not speak ? Tell me that this is un- 
true — tell me that thousands of mothers are not 
weeping for their sons who have fallen in Amer- 
ica, and whose graves they will never behold — 
that able-bodied men were not compelled by 
thousands to leave their country as sold slaves, 
and that the imprecations of those leaving did 
’not unite with the curses of those remaining, in 
order one day to become at the throne of God a 
terrible accusation against him who ruined his 
states and his people, and enriched himself with 
the blood and tears of his subjects. Why do you 
not speak ? Dare to say again the Hessian peo- 
ple love their sovereign, and long for his re- 
turn ? Speak I ” 


His voice rolled like thunder ; his eyes darted 
fiery glances at the two gentlemen, who were 
standing before him, pale and dismayed, and who 
dared not look in the face of the emperor. Even 
Talleyrand, by an involuntary instinct of fear, 
had withdrawn several steps to the door, and his 
face, usually so calm and imperturbable, was be- 
traying some apprehensions lest this terrible 
storm might be discharged on him, too, and some 
of its bolts hurled at his head. 

The two envoys endeavored to utter a few 
words, but they spoke in so low a voice that no 
one understood them. They felt that the eyes of 
Napoleon were still fixed on them, rendering 
them confused and incapable of making any 
reply. 

A smile, as a sunbeam, flashed through the 
clouds on the emperor’s face, and his glance be- 
came milder. “ I see at least that you are una- 
ble to ^ deny the truth,” he said. “Go home, 
gentlemen ! Tell your master his career is fin- 
ished, and that he has ceased to reign. Tell the 
people of Hesse, however, that they shall be 
happy and prosperous henceforward. Delivered 
from those cruel and infamous compulsory ser- 
vices which the elector was in the habit of im- 
posing upon his subjects, the people will now 
be able to devote their exclusive attention to the 
culture of their fields ; their taxes shall be di- 
minished, and they shall be ruled in accordance 
with generous and liberal principles. Tell the 
people of Hesse what I have said to you ! Go ! ” 

He waved his hand imperiously toward the 
door and turned his back to them. With droop- 
ing heads, pale and trembling, MM. de Lepel 
and de Malsburg left the room. Napoleon stepped 
to the window, and was vigorously drumming a 
march on the rattling panes. 

“ Sire,” said the feeble voice of Talleyrand be- 
hind him, “ sire, the ambassador of the Duke of 
Brunswick.” 

“ The Duke of Brunswick ? ” asked Napoleon, 
quickly turning to the gentleman who was stand- 
ing by the side of Talleyrand, and who bowed 
deeply as soon as the emperor fixed his eyes upon 
him. “ The Duke of Brunswick ? ” repeated 
Napoleon. “ I do not know any Duke of Bruns- 
wick. It maybe that I shall remember him after, 
a while. Let the dear duke wait until then. I 
have to attend to more important matters than to 
quarrel about antiquated and lost titles. Who 
else desires an audience ? ” 

“Sire, the ambassador of the Duchess of 
Weimar,” said Talleyrand. 

“Introduce him,” commanded Napoleon, “and 
in the mean time, sir, explain to me,” he said to 


58 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


M. de Muncbliausen — “ explain to me who is the 
Duke of Brunswick.” 

“ Sire, he is a mortally wounded, a blind old 
man, who implores your majesty to permit him 
to die quietly in his capital, and sleep in the tomb 
of his ancestors,” said the ambassador, deeply 
affected. “But in order to die calmly, he im- 
plores your ^majesty to give him the assurance 
that you will not deprive his son of the inherit- 
ance of his ancestors, and that you will not 
avenge upon the son the misfortunes of the father. 
Sire, the dying Duke of Brunswick sends me to 
recommend his family and his state to your ma- 
jesty.” 

“ The ambassador of the Duchess of Weimar,” 
said Talleyrand, entering with M. de Muller. 

The emperor greeted wuth a rapid nod the en- 
voy of Weimar, and then turned once more to 
that of the unhappy Duke of Brunswick. 

“ I know of no Duke of Brunswick,” said Na- 
poleon, sternly. “ His name and titles have been 
buried on the battle-field of Auerstadt. What 
w^ould he W'ho sent you have to say if I were to 
inflict on the city of Brunswick that subversion 
with which, fifteen years ago, he threatened the 
capital of the great nation which I command ? ^ 
The Duke of Brunswick has disavowed the in- 
sensate manifesto of 1'792 ; one would have 
thought that with age reason had begun to get 
the better of his passions, and yet he has again 
lent the authority of his name to the follies of 
hot-headed youth, which have brought ruin upon 
Prussia. To him it belonged to put women, 
courtiers, and young officers, into their proper 
places, and to make all feel the authority of his 
age, of his understanding, and position. But he 
had not the strength to do so, and the Prussian 
monarchy is demolished, and the states of Bruns- 
wick are in my power. Tell him that I shall 
show him that consideration which is due to an 
unfortunate general, justly celebrated, struck by 
that fate wdiich may reach us all ; but that I can- 
not recognize a sovereign prince in a general of 
the Prussian army. After his conduct toward 
France he cannot expect me to exercise toward 
him a ridiculous and undeserved generosity.” 

The ambassador of Brunswick withdrew, sigh- 
ing, and with tearful eyes.j* The emperor looked 
gloomily at him till he had disappeared. 

* When the Duke of Brunswick, at the head of the 
army of the King of Prussia, took the field against the 
French, he saiJ, in a manifesto to his troops, “ We will 
conquer and burn the rapacious city of Paris.” 

t As soon as M. de Munchhausen returned to Bruns- 
wick and communicated to the unfortunate duke the ut- 
ter failure of his mission and Napoleon’s threatening re- 


“ And now, Talleyrand, I will go to greet the 
envoys of Poland,” he said, taking his hat, and 
advancing a few steps. But at that moment his 
eyes, as if accidentally, seemed to behold M. de 
Muller, who was standing by the side of Talley- 
rand. “ Ah, I forgot the ambassador of the Duch- 
ess of Weimar. Well, perhaps it \vould have 
been fortunate for you if I had forgotten you. 
For when remembering you, I must remember 
the arrogance and obstinacy of that little duke 
who dared to oppose me and endeavored to frus- 
trate my will.” 

“ Sire,” said M. de Muller, “ the duke believed 
that his honor, his duty, and his rank required 
him not to act contrary to military fealty. He 
was connected wuth Prussia by virtue of military 
treaties of long years’ standing; hence, he be- 
lieved it incumbent on him to adhere to them 
even when the King of Prussia, to the profound 
personal regret of the duke, entered into open 
hostilities against France.” 

“ Ah, bah ! treaties ! ” ejaculated Napoleon. 
“ I tell you, your duke had not his senses about 
him when he dared to oppose me. This is a 
good time for any prince to lose his states in a 
moment. You have just seen how I have acted 
in the case of the Duke of Brunswick. I shall 
have no mercy on those who oppose me and dare 
to bid me defiance ! I will drive these wolves 
back into the swamps of Italy, whence they 
came ! ” Throwing his hat with an angry gesture 


ply, the mortally wounded old man left his capital and 
state, in order not to run the additional risk of being taken 
prisoner by the French. On leaving bis palace, carried 
on a litter by his faithful servants, he was heard to wail 
in a low voice, “ Quelle honie! quelle honte /” and the 
tears burst from the sockets of his ruined eyes. The 
Duke of Brunswick had gone by way of Celle, Hamburg, 
and Altona, to Ottensen, a village on Danish soil. But 
since the day on which he had been compelled to leave 
the palace of his ancestors and his state as a fugitive, he 
would take no food ; he would not support the bm-den of 
life any more — death by starvation was to deliver him 
from his sufferings. It was in vain that his servants and 
his faithful physician implored him to desist from this 
fatal purpose ; he remained immovable. Only once the 
supplications of his physician succeeded in persuading 
him to eat an oyster. Formerly oysters had been a favor- 
ite dish of the duke, and they excited his appetite even 
now. But scarcely had he tasted it when he repented of 
his weakness, and his fixed purpose to die of hunger re- 
turned as intensely as ever. He spit out the oyster and 
cried, “ Man, what are you doing ? Tou give me my eyes 
to eat 1 ” Henceforward it was impossible to shake his 
determinf'tlon. He died after long, excruciating suffer- 
ings, on the 10th of November, 1806, at Ottensen. His 
remains were brought back to Brunswick on the 10th of 
November, 1810, by his son and successor, Duke Freder- 
ick William, so famous as commander of the Corps of 
Yongeance. 


TRIUMPH AND DEFEAT. 


59 


on the floor, the emperor added in a loud voice, 
“ Like this hat, I will crush them, so that no one 
in Germany will ever think of them. I feel really 
tempted to treat your prince in the same man- 
ner ! ” 

“ Sire, your majesty, however, condescended to 
lend a favorable ear to the prayers of the Duch- 
ess of Weimar,” said the ambassador, in a timid 
voice. 

“ It is true,” said Napoleon, “the duchess is a 
noble lady ; if I pardon her husband, it is only for 
her sake, and because she is a sister of a princess 
closely related to me. But you ought not to rely 
too much on my forbearance and generosity. If 
the duke persist any longer in his resistance — if it 
be true that he has not yet left the Prussian ser- 
vice — I take back the promise I gave the duchess, 
and your duke shall learn what it is to oppose 
me ! ” 

“ Sire,” said M. de Midler, “ the duchess sent 
me hither m order to inform your majesty that 
her husband has left the Prussian service, and will 
return to W eimar to occupy himself only with the 
welfare of his own state. She ventures now to 
remind your majesty of your promise to forgive 
the duke and leave him in possession of his inher- 
itance.” 

“Well, if that be so, I shall fulfil my promise,” 
said Napoleon, in a milder voice. “ I shall not 
deprive your master of his sovereignty ; but, as a 
matter of course, he will have to submit to some 
sacrifices. I shall communicate my wishes con- 
cerning this point to my minister, M. de Talleyrand, 
and he will inform you of them. Do not fail to 
give the duke distinctly to understand that he is 
indebted for his state and political existence solely 
to the respect I feel for his wife and her sister, the 
Margravine of Baden.” The conqueror nodded 
to the envoy and walked toward the door leading 
into the audience-hall. Talleyrand quickly picked 
up the emperor’s hat from the floor, and carrying 
it to him, said, “ Sire, you have lost your hat.” 

Napoleon smiled. “Well,” he said, “now-a- 
days, when so many lose their heads and their 
crowns, a man may be pardoned for once losing 
his hat. Come, accompany me to the good, en- 
thusiastic Poles ! ” 


CHAPTER XIV. 

TRIUMPH AND DEFEAT. 

Scarcely had the emperor crossed the thresh- 
old of the audience-hall, when it resounded with 
cheers and the constantly-repeated shout of 


“ Vive VEmpereur ! ” He thanked the envoys 
of Poland for these greetings, and quickly ap- 
proached them. They presented a magnificent 
spectacle in their national costume, adorned as it 
was with gorgeous embroidery and diamonds. 
“Introduce these gentlemen to me, Talleyrand,” 
he said ; “ I will cherish in my memory the names 
of those whom henceforth I shall regard as 
friends ! ” 

When Talleyrand presented them in succession, 
Napoleon listened to each of their high-sounding 
old aristocratic names with a kindly nod and a 
gracious air, which delighted the hearts of the 
Poles. 

“ Sire,” said the Count of Dombrowsky, a 
silvery-haired man of seventy years — “sire, in 
bending our knees before your majesty, we repre- 
sent all Poland, which is exclaiming, ‘ God save 
Napoleon the Great ! — the liberator of nations ! ’ ” 

“ God^save Napoleon the Great! — the liberator 
of nations 1 ” echoed the others, kneeling down 
and extending their arms toward the emperor. 

“ Liberator of nations 1 ” repeated Napoleon, 
smiling. “No one can liberate nations unless 
they do so themselves.” 

“ But, in order to liberate themselves, the na- 
tions stand in need of a noble and high-minded 
chieftain ! ” exclaimed the old count. “ Sire, the 
Polish nation trusts in you; it is on its knees, 
praying your majesty that you may become the 
libei’ator whom it has so long looked for. The 
great Napoleon has arisen upon France like a sun 
— ^he has come, seen, and vanquished the uni- 
verse ! 0 invincible Caesar ! In seeing you, all 

my wishes and those of my countrymen are 
fulfilled ! Already we consider our country as 
saved, for in your person we worship the wisest 
and most equitable of legislators. You will re- 
deem us I You will not permit Poland to be dis- 
membered. Oh, sire, Poland puts her trust in 
the redeemer of nations I Poland puts her trust 
in Napoleon the Great, who will mse her from 
her degradation I ” 

“ Poland puts her trust in you,” repeated the 
Poles ; and, in the enthusiasm of their patriotism, 
forgetful of etiquette, they crowded around Napo- 
leon, and, again kneeling, kissed his hands and the 
hem of his garment. 

Napoleon smilingly allowed them to do so, but 
his eyes assumed a graver expression. “ Rise now, 
gentlemen,” he said, “I have received through 
you the homage of poor, weeping Polonia, but 
now let me receive also in you the brave sons of 
this unhappy land, and speak to the rrmn of Poland. 
Rise ! ” 

The Poles rose, and looked with beaming eyes 


60 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


and in breathless suspense at the emperor, whose 
face exhibited the austere regularity of a statue 
of ancient Rome. 

“ It would afford me the liveliest pleasure to see 
the royal throne of Poland restored,” he said, 
“ for it would also secure the independence of the 
adjoining states, which are now threatened by the 
unmeasured ambition of Russia. But words and 
idle wishes are not suflScient. When the priests, 
the nobility, and the citizens, make common 
cause — when they are determined to conquer or 
die — then they will triumph, and may count on my 
protection.” 

“ Sire, the nobility, priests, and citizens, are al- 
ready united and resolved,” exclaimed Count 
Dombrowsky. “We are only waiting for our lib- 
erator to proclaim our independence.” 

Napoleon assumed a very serious air. “ I can- 
not proclaim your independence before you are 
determined, sword in hand, to defend your rights 
as a nation.” 

“ Sire, we are so determined ! ” unanimously 
shouted the Poles. 

The emperor received this interruption with a 
gracious smile and added: “You have been up- 
braided with losing sight of your genuine interest, 
and of the welfare of your country, during your 
'long-continued domestic dissensions. Taught by 
your misfortunes, be harmonious, and prove to 
the world that the whole Polish nation is animated 
by one spirit.” 

“ Sire, we will prove it to the world,” exclaimed 
the Poles, lifting up their hands, as if taking a 
solemn oath. 

The emperor turned his stem eyes slowly and 
piercingly from one to another. He apparently 
wished to greet them all, and to read the inner- 
most recesses of their hearts. Then he said, in a 
loud voice, “ The restoration of Poland requires 
blood — blood, and, again, blood 

“Sire, we are joyously ready to shed ours for 
the sacred cause of the fatherland,” exclaimed 
Count Raczinsky. “We wish to know only, or at 
least hope, that it will not be in vain. Sire, Po- 
land is extending her arms toward you; she is 
beckoning you with a passionate love; she is 
longingly calling to you, ‘ Great Caesar, come to 
my aid, that the sun may once more beam upon 
me — that you may disperse the long night of my 
torture, and that a happy day may again dawn for 
me!’ Oh, sire, will you listen to the supplica- 
tions of Poland ? — will you come to her and break 
her chains ? ” 

“ No,” said Napoleon, “ I will not go to weeping 
Poland, shaking her chains, and only wailing and 
complaining instead of acting, but I will go to the 


men and heroes of Poland, who have thrown off 
their fetters, and shed their blood for their coun- 
try 1 Go home and tell this to your countrymen, 
and ask them when I shall come ! ” 

“ Sir, they will say as we say now, ‘ God save 
Cffisar! We clash our swords, and dance the 
sacred war-dance, that he may come and let us see 
his face ! ’ ” 

“As soon as it is time,” said Napoleon, sig- 
nificantly. “ Go, my friends, and tell your country- 
men so. The time for weeping is past — that for 
action has come. Improve it, and be wise. Re- 
turn home as fast as you can, for I should like to 
be with you before the present year has expired. 
Farewell ! ” 

He greeted them in so winning a manner that, 
charmed with his affability, they again enthusias- 
tically shouted, “ Long live Napoleon the Great, 
the liberator of nations I ” Amid the cheers of 
the sanguine Poles, Napoleon returned to the 
small reception-room, accompanied by Talleyrand, 
whom he had beckoned to follow. 

“Well,” asked he, when they were alone, 
“ what do you think of it ? Will the Poles 
rise? ” 

“I am convinced of it, sire! Your words were 
like the steel striking the flint, and kindling the 
tinder of their national ardor. It will burn, sire — 
burn so brightly that Russia, Austria, and Prus- 
sia, may be badly injured in their Polish prov- 
inces.” 

“ Certainly not Austria,” said Napoleon, quickly ; 
“ for the rest, we shall know how to extinguish the 
fire as soon as it burns too extensively. Forward 
your dispatch to our ambassador in Vienna to- 
day. He is to assure the Emperor of Austria in 
the most emphatic manner that I do not intend 
permitting the Polish insurrection to spread too 
far, and tfiat his Galician provinces, at all events, 
shall not be endangered. — Well, Duroc, what do 
you bring ? ” continued he, when the door opened, 
and the grand marshal entered with a letter in 
his hand. 

“ Sire, I bring two messages at the same time. 
In the first place, a new envoy of the King of 
Prussia has just arrived ; he is the bearer of 
this letter which the king, who is now at Graudenz, 
has addressed to your majesty.” 

“Ah,” exclaimed Napoleon, “he is at Graudenz, 
which is still closer to the boundary of his states. 
But I will drive him to the last town on the fron- 
tier. The queen must learn what it is to provoke 
a war ! ” He took the letter, which Duroc handed 
to him, and opened it hastily. 

“ Sire,” said Duroc, “ the bearer of that letter. 
Major von Rauch, asks the favor of an audience. 


TRIUMPH AND DEFEAT. 


in order to lay before your majesty the wishes 
and requests of his king, who has orally commu- 
nicated them to him.” 

Napoleon turned to Talleyrand. “ Receive him 
first,” he said ; “ then report to me, and we shall 
see whether I can grant him an interview. But, 
wait a moment ! Let us first see w'hat is in the 
king’s letter.” He broke the seal and unfolded 
the paper. When about to read it, he raised his 
eyes toward Duroc. 

“ Sire, Prince Augustus of Prussia has just ar- 
rived as a prisoner of war, escorted by a detach- 
ment of our soldiers. The Grand-duke of Berg 
sends him to your majesty as a trophy of your 
victory. Colonel de Gerard accompanies him.” 

“ Did the prince behave as a brave soldier ? ” 
asked Napoleon. 

“Sire, Colonel de Gerard states that even our 
own men admired his heroism. The prince had 
separated himself with a battalion of grenadiers 
from the corps of the Prince von Hohenlohe, and 
was marching along the Uker. Our dragoons 
were pursuing him, but he repulsed them repeat- 
edly, and would have succeeded in escaping, with 
his soldiers, if the impassable character of the 
ground had not detained him. He got into a 
marshy country, intersected by many small canals, 
which greatly impeded him. The horses sank 
into the mud, and their I'iders had to alight and 
lead them. The prince also was compelled to 
wade through on foot. He was leading his charger 
by the bridle, and just as he felt firm ground un- 
der him, and was about mounting, the horse 
broke from him and^ plunged into the Uker to 
save its own life. Our dragoons succeeded then 
in overtaking and capturing the prince ; and the 
Prussians, seeing that their leader was taken, also 
surrendered. The grand-duke reports this affair 
at length to your majesty, because he knows that 
you honor bravery in an enemy, and because this 
living trophy would no doubt assume a higher 
value in your eyes.” 

“ Where is the prince ? ” asked Napoleon, 
quickly. 

“ Sire, he is in the anteroom, and awaits what- 
ever disposition your majesty may make of him. 
Sire, he humbly requests your majesty to permit 
him to repair to his parents, to recover from his 
wounds.” 

“ I will see him. Admit him at once.” 

“ Sire, would not your majesty graciously per- 
mit him to arrange his toilet a little ? ” asked 
Duroc. “The prince is not dressed sufficiently 
well to appear before your majesty.” 

“ No matter,” said Napoleon. “ Bring him in 
immediately.” He waved his hand to Duroc, and 


61 

then looked again at the letter, which he still 
held in his hand. 

Talleyrand, who was standing near him, fixed 
his subtle eyes on the emperor’s face. He saw 
that it brightened up with proud satisfaction, and 
that gradually a cold, disdainful smile played on 
his lips. 

“I shall be able to impose very rigorous condi- 
tions upon the new Prussian envoys,” said Talley- 
rand to himself ; “ the king seems to submit very 
humbly, for the pride of a triumphator is beam- 
ing on the emperor’s forehead.” 

Just then Napoleon threw the letter impetu- 
ously on the table. “ Read it, Talleyrand,” he 
said, carelessly. “ It is always instructive to see 
how small these men are in adversity, and how 
overbearing in prosperity. And such men desire 
to be sovereign princes, and wear a crown ! ” 

Talleyrand was extending his hand toward the 
letter when the door opened, and the grand mar- 
shal entered. 

“ Sire,” he exclaimed, “ Prince Augustus of 
Prussia.” 

“Let him come in,” said Napoleon, sitting 
down slowly and carelessly in the easy-chair, 
covered with purple velvet, which was standing 
in the middle of the room. He beckoned Talley- 
rand to come to him. 

At this moment there appeared on the thresh- 
old the tall, slender form of Prince Augustus 
of Prussia. Duroc was right; the prince was 
not in very courtly trim to appear before the em- 
peror. His uniform was torn and bespattered; 
he had but one boot, and that covered with mire ; 
the other had stuck in the marshy ground near 
Schonermark, and he had replaced it by a heavy 
wooden shoe, such as those worn by German peas- 
ants ; his right arm was in a linen bandage, 
flecked with blood, and an oblique wound, covered 
with a broad black plaster,' was on his forehead. 
Such was the miserable condition in which the 
nephew of Frederick the Great appeared in the 
brilliant halls of the royal palace of Prussia be- 
fore the conqueror of his country and of his 
house, who received him, seated, and scarcely 
nodded in return to the stiff military saluta- 
tion of the prince. Napoleon •looked sternly 
at the prisoner, and his lips betrayed the anger 
seething in his breast. The prince, however, ap- 
parently did not notice this, nor feel uneasy and 
irritated at the singular situation in w'hich he 
found himself; his eyes met those of the em- 
peror calmly and fearlessly ; he did not bow his 
head, but carried it erect ; not a trace of fear or 
sorrow was to be seen in his youthful counte- 
nance ; a faint smile indeed was playing on his 


62 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


red, full lips when he glanced over the room, and 
again at Napoleon, behind whom Talleyrand and 
Duroc were standing in a most respectful attitude. 

“ You are a brother of Priuce Louis Ferdinand, 
who was hilled atSaalfeld ? ” asked the conqueror, 
in a harsh voice. 

“ Yes, sire, I am a son of Prince Ferdinand of 
Prussia,” was the grave reply. 

“ A nephew of Frederick II.,” exclaimed Na- 
poleon. “ A nephew of the heroic king who 
loved France so well, that his heart and opinions 
were those of a Frenchman.” 

“ Sire,” said the prince, calmly, “ history teaches, 
however, that the great king was not always the 
friend of that country, and that his love for it did 
not prevent him from waging war against it. Ilis 
enmity against France gained him no less glory 
than his friendships for its poets and savants. 

“ Ah, you refer to Rossbach,” said Napoleon, 
shrugging his shoulders. “We have expunged 
that name with the names of Jena and Auer- 
stadt, and the monument that once stood on the 
battle-field of Rossbach is now on the way to 
Paris — a trophy of our victorious army.” * 

The prince bent his head a little. “ It is true,” 
he said, “ the goddess of victory is very fickle. 
The future therefore consoles those who have suc- 
cumbed in the present.” 

The emperor cast an angry glance on the 
prince, who met it with a bold, unflinching air. 

“ I see you are, both by birth and sentiment, a 
brother of Prince Louis Ferdinand,” said Napo- 
leon. “ Like him, you belonged to the hot-headed 
young men who would have war at any price. 
Hard blow'S were required to moderate your war- 
fever. I hope you are cured of it now. Your 
brother has expiated his mad arrogance on 
the battle-field of Saalfeld. It is your fate to re- 
turn as a prisoner of war in the most pitiful 
plight to the capital of Prussia, which you left a 


* On the day after the battle of Jena, the emperor said 
to General Savary, while riding across the battle-field of 
Rossbach, between Halle and Merseburg: “Gallop to the 
left in this direction; about half a mile from here you 
will find the column erected by the Prussians in memory 
of that battle.” Savary advanced in the direction indi- 
cated, and “found the small column in the middle of a 
corn-field. Waving his handkerchief. General Savary 
made a sign that he had succeeded in discovering the 
monument, and Napoleon galloped with his suite across 
the plain to contemplate it. The storms of half a century 
had beaten upon it, and it was difiicult to decipher the 
numerous inscriptions with which it was covered. The 
division of General Suchet just passing the spot, the em- 
peror ordered them to have the monument removed and 
sent to Paris. The pieces were put into a caisson, and 
the orders executed. — “ Memolres du Due de Eovigo,” 
vol. ii., p. 293. 


few weeks since with such foolish hopes of victory. 
You ought to have listened in time to reason, and 
not to the siren voice of the queen, w'ho, in a man- 
ner so disastrous to Prussia, inveigled all the 
young men to plunge into the Charybdis of war, 
and — ” 

“ Sire,” said the prince, interrupting him in an 
almost threatening voice — “ sire, no reflections on 
the queen, if you please ! Having conquered 
us, you are at liberty to humiliate and abuse the 
vanquished, if your majesty derive pleasure from 
such a triumph, but the noble and unhappy queen 
should not be dragged into a quarrel of men. We 
do not claim the excuse of having been inveigled 
by her, and her exalted virtue does not deserve 
that charge.” 

“ Ah,” exclaimed Napoleon, scornfully, “ like 
all young men, you seem to belong to the enthu- 
siastic admirers of the queen.” 

“ Sire, that proves that the young men of Prus- 
sia are still imbued with respect for virtue. It is 
true we all adore the queen as our tutelary saint ; 
she is the radiant pattern of our ^mothers, our 
wives, and daughters ; she is the ideal of all — 
and those who have once been so happy as to 
have seen and spoken with her, bow to her in love 
and admiration.” 

“Had all of you bowed less to her, Prussia 
w'ould not now lie humiliated in the dust,” said 
the emperor, harshly. “ Prussia and France are 
destined by Nature to be friends, and I, w’ho 
never have sought war, but always regarded it 
only as a deplorable necessity, was greatly in- 
clined to offer my hand to Prussia in peace and 
friendship. But your queen and your officers of 
the guard were bent on having war, and believed 
they would win laurels by waging it. Now you 
have it wdth all its terrors. What has it brought 
upon you ? You have lost a brother by it, and 
you yourself had to lay dowm your arms at 
Prenzlau.” 

“ Sire,” said the prince, in generous pride, “ I re- 
quest your majesty not to confound me with those 
who concluded the capitulation of Prenzlau. I 
did not capitulate ; I tvas taken prisoner, sw'ord 
in hand, but I did not surrender it voluntarily.” 

“Young man,” said Napoleon, in grave, cold 
calmness, “ beware of being plunged into deeper 
distress by your haughty spirit. The Prussian 
princes are not now in a position to ‘utter high- 
sounding words. Your king is fully aware of 
this. Listen attentively to what I tell you : he 
has begged me for peace in the most submissive 
manner; he is imploring me to grant him my 
friendship, and calls himself happy because I am 
dwelling in his palaces.” 


TRIUMPH AND DEFEAT. 


63 


“ Sire, that is impossible,” exclaimed the prince, 
carried away by his impulsive temper. 

Napoleon shrugged his shoulders, and then turn- 
ed his head a little aside toward his minister. “ M. 
Talleyrand, please read to us the letter,” he said ; 
“I merely glanced over it. — Owing to the porten- 
tous events of the last days, you are, prince, 
Avithout direct news from the king. You may, 
then, derive from this letter some information 
concerning his situation and sentiments. Read, 
M. Minister ! And you, prince, take a seat.” 

He pointed to one of the chairs standing near 
the door. Prince Augustus, however, did not ac- 
cept this gracious invitation. He bowed, and 
said, smiling, “ Your majesty will permit me to 
stand, for my costume is hardly in harmony with 
gilt chairs, and I believe it behooves a poor vaga- 
bond like myself to stand humbly at the door. 
Moreover, Prussian etiquette requires us to stand 
in listening to the words of our sovereign.” 

“ Read, Talleyrand,” said the emperor, and lean- 
ing back carelessly, he tried to discover in the 
prince’s face the impression Avhich the king’s let- 
ter would make upon him. Talleyrand read as 
follows : 

“ Monsieur mon Frere : When I begged your 
imperial majesty to grant me peace, I consulted 
my reason, but I have now consulted my heart. 
In spite of the terrible sacrifices which you have 
imposed on me, sire, I desire most anxiously that 
the treat}^, which has already been secured by the 
approval of the main points, will entitle me' soon 
to resume my amicable relations with your im- 
perial majesty, which the war interrupted for a 
moment. It is an agreeable duty for me, mo7i- 
sietir mon frere^ to manifest, by a proof of con- 
fidence, my sincere desire to cultivate your friend- 
ship ; and I believe I do this by stopping the 
further advance of the Russian troops, without 
waiting for the definitive conclusion of peace. 

“ I was anxious that your majesty should be 
received and treated at my palaces in a manner 
agreeable to you. I have zealously taken such 
steps as were necessary for that purpose, and, 
according to my power, in the situation in which I 
am now, I hope my endeavors have been suc- 
cessful. In return, your majesty will permit me 
to recommend my capital and the province of Bran- 
denburg to your generosity. This province, so 
little favored by Nature, is, as it were, a creation 
of my immortal ancestor. I hope, sire, you will 
regard it as a monument he erected to himself ; 
and the numerous points in which your majesty 
resembles that great man, I trust, will be an ad- 
ditional inducement for you to order his work to 
be treated in a magnanimous manner. 


“Besides, I should like to request your ma- 
jesty kindly to exempt the district of Halber- 
stadt and the duchy of Magdeburg from the cruel 
losses you are imposing on me. Such an order I 
should regard as a precious guaranty of your per- 
sonal feelings toward me, and you may depend 
upon it, sire, I should zealously strive to recipro- 
cate these feelings in the most cordial manner. I 
pray God to take you in his Holy keeping, and re- 
main, monsieur mon frere, 

“ Your majesty’s obedient servant, 

“Frederick William.” 

While the letter was being read, Napoleon did 
not avert his eyes for a single moment from the 
countenance of the prince. He saw that he 
blushed with indignation at first, and that gradu- 
ally a profound grief overshadowed bis noble fea.- 
tures. 

“ Well, was I not right ? ” asked Napoleon, when 
Talleyrand had concluded. “ Does not your king 
submit to all my conditions ? Does he not bid me 
welcome to his palaces ? ” 

“ Sire,” said the prince, mournfully, “ it does 
not behoove me to censure the words of my king. 
When he has spoken, I must be silent. I only 
dare to observe that your majesty may see from 
this letter that the queen does not meddle with 
government affairs. Had she done so, your ma- 
jesty, no doubt, would not have received this let- 
ter of Count Haugwitz.” 

“ Of Count Haugwitz ? ” asked Napoleon. “ Of 
the king, you mean ? ” 

“ Sire, the king lent to this letter only his name 
and handwriting ; Count Haugwitz furnished the 
words and the spirit it breathes.” 

“ Then you believe that the queen does ^not 
share the views of her husband ? ” asked the em- 
peror, hastily. “ You believe she would still in- 
sist on the further continuation of the war if her 
opinion were consulted ? ” 

“ Sire, I only take the liberty to state that she 
would not have written such a letter.” 

“I know it very well!” exclaimed Napoleon. 
“ Your queen hates me ; she would die rather than 
beg my friendship ; she would bury herself under 
the ruins of her throne rather than put an end to 
this war and call me her brother. But I will bend 
that haughty soul — I will crush her heart, and 
make her repent of what she is doing. I will — 
but,” he suddenly interrupted himself, “ what is 
the matter with you ! You turn pale 1 You aro 
tottering, prince 1 ” 

The emperor arose and advanced a few steps ; 
but the prince motioned him back. “ It is nothing,” 
he said faintly, “ only a momentary weakness — that 
is all. I have not taken rest for several days and 


64 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


nights, and loss of blood has exhausted my 
strength. Besides — why should I shrink from 
confessing it — I am hungry, sire; I have eaten 
nothing for the last twenty-four hours.” 

“ Poor young man,” said Napoleon, compas- 
sionately, as he approached the prince, “ I deplore 
your misfortunes. Personally you have not de- 
served them, for I know you have fought bravely, 
and are worthy of a better fate than that of a 
prisoner of war ; but will you give me your word 
of honor that you will not attempt to escape or 
participate again in this war against me? ” 

“ Sire,” said the prince, pointing at his wounded 
right arm, “ sire, I believe I must give you my 
word of honor. I am your prisoner, and shall not 
attempt to escape.” 

“ Then go to your parents. I permit you to 
remain at the house of Prince Ferdinand until you 
have recovered from your wounds, I will not de- 
prive your mother any longer of the pleasure of 
embracing her brave son. Go, then, to her I ” 
The prince bowed and was about to withdraw. 

“ Well, prince, have you not a word of thanks 
for me ? ” asked Napoleon, kindly. 

The prince smiled mournfully. “ Sire,” he said, 
bowing deeply, “ sire, I thank you for treating me 
so leniently.” 


CHAPTEE XY. 

THE VICTORIA OF THE BRANDENBURG GATE. 

Without waiting for further permission to with- 
draw, the prince hastily opened the door and went 
out. For a moment he sat down in the ante- 
room, for his feet were trembling so as to be 
scarcely able to support him, and such a pallor 
overspread his cheeks that Colonel Gerard, who 
had been waiting, hastened to him in dismay, and 
asked whether he would permit him to call a 
physician. Prince Augustus smilingly shook his 
head. “ The physician of whom I stand in need 
is in my mother’s kitchen,” he said, “ and your 
emperor has permitted me to seek him.” Just 
then the grand marshal entered the room, and, 
making a sign to Gerard, whispered a few words 
into his ear. 

“ Your royal highness is delivered from the 
burden of my company,” said the colonel to the 
prince when Duroc had withdrawn. “ Permit me, 
however, to conduct you to the carriage that is to 
convey you to the palace of Prince Ferdinand.” 

In the court-yard below, an imperial carriage 
was waiting, and Colonel Gerard himself hastened 
to open the door to assist the prince in entering. 


But the latter waved his hand deprecatingly, 
and stepped back. “ I am unworthy of entering 
the imperial carriage,” he said. “ See, even the 
coachman, in his livery, looks elegant compared 
with me ; and all Berlin would laugh, if it should 
see me ride in the emperor’s magnificent coach. 
Let me, therefore, walk off quite humbly and 
modestly and enter the first conveyance I meet. 
Farewell, colonel, and accept my thanks for the 
great attention and kindness you have manifested 
toward me.” 

The prince kindly shook hands with him and 
then hastily walked across the court-yard of the 
palace toward the place in front of it — the so-called 
Lustgarien. He crossed this place and the wide 
bridge, built across an arm of the Spree, without 
meeting with any vehicle. But the fresh air, and 
the sense that he was free, agreed with him so 
well that he felt strong enough to proceed on foot 
to his father’s palace. 

“ No one recognizes me in this miserable cos- 
tume,” he said, smiling — “ no notice will be taken 
of me, and I will be able to reach my home with- 
out being detained.” And he walked vigorously 
across the Opera Place toward the Linden. This 
neighborhood, generally so lively and frequented, 
was strangely deserted — ^no promenaders — none 
of the contented and happy faces, formerly to be 
met with on the Opera Place and under the Lin- 
den, were to be seen to-day. Only a few old 
women were mournfully creeping along here and 
there; and, when the prince passed the guard- 
house, he saw French soldiers standing in the 
front, who looked arrogantly and scornfully at the 
Prussian officer, and did not think of saluting 
him. 

“ Ab, my brother,” muttered Prince Augustus 
to himself, “ your prophecy has been quickly ful- 
filled ! The drums are no longer beaten when we 
ride out of the gate and pass the guard-house. 
Well, I do not care. I would gladly do without 
such honors, if Prussia herself only were honored 
—if—” 

A noise, proceeding from the lower end of the 
Linden, interrupted his soliloquy. He advanced 
more rapidly to see what w'as going on. The 
shouts drew nearer and nearer, and a darli, surg- 
ing crowd was hastening from the entrance of the 
Linden through the Brandenburg Gate. Soon the 
prince was able to discern more distinctly the 
character of the multitude approaching. They 
were French soldiers, marching up the street, and 
on the sidewalk, as well as in the middle of the 
Linden ; the people and the citizens belonging to 
the national guard accompanying them — the latter 
in the brilliant uniform which they had put on 


THE VICTORIA OF BRANDENBURG GATE. 


65 


with the consent of the French authorities, who, 
now that there were no Prussian troops in Berlin, 
had permitted them to mount guard together with 
the French. But the people and the national 
guard did not accompany the French soldiers 
quietly ; on the contrary, the bewildered prince 
distinctly heard the sneers, the derisive laughter, 
and jeers of the crowd; even the boys in the 
tree-tops were casting down their abusive epi- 
thets. V^^hen the procession drew nearer, and the 
people surrounded the prince, he discovered the 
meaning of these outbursts of scorn and derision. 

A strange and mournful procession was moving 
along in the midst of the splendidly uniformed 
French soldiers. It consisted of the captured 
officers of the Prussian guard, who had been 
obliged to walk from Prenzlau to Berlin, and 
whom the French grenadiers had received outside 
of the city limits and escorted by the walls to the 
Brandenburg Gate, so that, in accordance with 
the emperor’s orders, they might make their en- 
try through that way. Two months before, they 
had marched out of the same gate in full uni- 
form, proud and arrogant, looking down supercil- 
iously on the civilians, whose humble greetings 
they scarcely condescended to return. Two 
months before. General von Riichel had been 
able to exclaim : “ A Prussian officer never goes 
on foot.” The Prussian guard had really believed 
that it would be scarcely worth while to draw 
their swords against the French — that it would be 
sufficient merely to march against them. But now 
the disastrous days of Jena had taught the offi- 
cers how to walk — ^now they did not look down 
scornfully from their horses on poor civilians, and 
faith in their own irresistibility had utterly disap- 
peared. They marched with bowed heads, pro- 
foundly humiliated, and compelled to suppress 
the grief overflowing their hearts. Their uni- 
forms were hanging in rags on emaciated forms, 
and the colors of the cloth and the gold-lace fa- 
cings were hidden beneath the mud that covered 
them. Their boots were torn, and robbed of the 
silver spurs ; and, as in the case of Prince Au- 
gustus of Hohenzollern, many wore wooden shoes. 
But in spite of this miserable and heart-rending 
spectacle, the populace had no pity, but accompa- 
nied the melancholy procession with derisive 
laughter and insulting shouts ! 

‘-Just look at those officers,” exclaimed a 
member of the national guard, approaching the 
soldiers — “ look at those high-born counts ! Do 
you remember how proud they used to be? How 
they despised us at the balls, in the saloons, and 
everj^vhere else ? How we had always to stand 
aside in the most submissive manner, in order 
6 


not to be run down by them ? They will not do 
so again for some time to come.” 

“ No,” cried the crowd, “they won’t hurt any- 
body now ! Their pomp and circumstance have 
vanished ! ” 

“ Just look at Baron von Klitzing ! ” exclaimed 
another. “See how the wet rim of his hat is 
hanging down on his face, as though he were a 
modest girl wishing to veil herself. Formerly, he 
used to look so bold and saucy ; seeming to be- 
lieve the whole world belonged to him, and that 
he needed only to stretch out his hand in order to 
capture ten French soldiers with each finger.” 

“ Yes, yes, they were tremendous heroes on 
marching out,” shouted another ; “ every one of 
the noble counts and barons had already his lau- 
rel in his pocket, and was taking the field as 
though it were a ballroom, in order to put his 
wreath on his head. Now they have come back, 
and the laurels they have won are not even good 
enough to boil carps with.” A roar of laughter 
followed this hit, and all eyes turned again in rid- 
icule toward the poor officers, who were march- 
ing along, mournfully and silently, with downcast 
yet noble bearing. 

Filled with anger and shame. Prince Augustus 
pressed through the crowd. He could not bear 
this disgraceful scene ; he had to avert his head 
in order not to see the unfortunate Prussian offi- 
cers ; he hurried away, that he might hear no 
more the cruel taunts of the populace. The 
ranks became less dense, and this terrible pro- 
cession passed by — the street was once more un- 
obstructed. The prince rushed onward regard- 
less of the direction he was taking, crushed as he 
was by the disgrace and wretchedness brought 
upon Prussia. He was again suddenly in front 
of a large gathering. He looked about him won- 
deringly and in dismay. Without knowing it, he 
had gone down to the large square in front of the 
Brandenburg Gate, where was a dense crowd. 

But the thousands here did not utter sneers or 
praises — they were sad and silent ; there was no 
malicious sparkle in their eyes as they rushed in 
one direction to the Brandenburg Gate. 

The prince beheld an inclined scaffold erected 
near the lofty Grecian pillars of the gate, and 
reaching up to the cast-iron goddess of victory, 
standing in her triumphal car, and holding the 
reins of her horses. He saw the ropes, pulleys, 
and chains, attached to her form, and it seemed 
to him as if they were around his own breast, 
and choking his voice. He had to make an ef- 
fort to utter a word, and, turning to a man stand- 
ing by, he asked in a low voice, “ What is going 
on here ? What are they doing up there ? ” 


66 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


The man looked at him long and mournfully. 
“ The French are removing the ‘ Victoria ’ from 
the gate,” he said, with suppressed anger. “ They 
believe the statue no longer suitable to Berlin, 
and the emperor is sending it to Paris, whither he 
has already forwarded the sword and clock of 
Frederick the Great.” 

The prince uttered a groan of despair. At 
that moment a loud French command was heard 
by the gate, and as if the “ Victoria ” were con- 
scious, and obedient to the orders of the emperor, 
a tremor seemed to seize the goddess. She rose 
as the horses began to descend, and her figure 


bent forward as if greeting Berlin for the last 
time. A loud noise resounded above the heads of 
the crowd — the “Victoria” had glided safely to 
the ground. The prince uttered a cry, and, as if 
paralyzed, closed his eyes. When he opened 
them again the beautiful pillars of the Branden- 
burg Gate had been deprived of their ornament, 
and the “Victoria,” with her triumphal horses, 
stood deposed from her lofty throne. 

Prince Augustus raised- his tearful eyes to 
heaven and whispered, “ Oh, my brother, I envy 
you your death, for it was not permitted you to 
behold the humiliation and sorrow of Prussia ! ” 


BOOK II 


CHAPTER XVI. 

THE TREATY OP CHARLOTTENBURG. 

Queen Louisa was pacing her room in great 
excitement. At times she stood still at the win- 
dow, and looked anxiously into the street as if 
expecting the arrival of some one. But that 
street — the main one in Osterode, in which city 
the royal couple had spent the last few days — re- 
mained silent and deserted. Large snow-flakes 
were fading from the cheerless, lead-colored sky, 
and the November storm was now sweeping them 
into little mounds, and again dispersing them in 
clouds of white dust. The queen beheld nothing 
but this winter scene ; she sighed and returned to 
her room to pace it as rapidly as before. 

But she was constantly drawn to the window, 
gazing into the street and listening breathlessly 
to any noise that reached her ears. “ If he 
should not come,” she muttered anxiously, “or 
if too late, all would be lost, and the cowards and 
babblers would be able once more to persuade 
my husband to yield to their clamor for peace. 
Heaven have mercy on our unhappy country and 
on ourselves ! ” 

Suddenly she started up, and leaned closer to the 
window in order to see better. Yes, she had not 
been mistaken. In the lower part of the street a 
carriage was to be seen. The storm prevented 
her from hearing the noise of the wheels, but she 
saw it — it drew nearer and nearer, and finally 
stopped in front of the house. The queen stepped 
back, and, drawing a deep breath, she raised her 
eyes to heaven. “ I thank Thee, my God ! Thou 
hast had mercy on my anguish,” she whispered 
with a gentle smile. She then walked slowly and 
faintly across the room toward the divan and sank 
down on it. “Ah,” she muttered, “this eternal 
anxiety, this unrelieved suspense and excitement 
are consuming my strength — nay, my life. My 




feet are trembling ; my heart stands entirely still 
at times, and then beats again as violently as 
if it would burst from my breast. But, no mat- 
ter ! I, am quite willing to die if I only live to 
see the deliverance of my country and the pres- 
ervation of my house. She dropped her head on 
the cushions and gazed with dilated eyes at the 
sky. But, on hearing a low rap at the door, she 
slowly rose and called out in her full, sonorous 
voice, “ Come in ! ” The door opened, and Ma- 
dame von Berg entered. 

“ Well, Caroline, he has arrived, I suppose?” 
asked the queen. 

“ No, your majesty,” said Madame von Berg, 
smiling, “ (hey have arrived. The two ministers, 
Baron von Stein and Count von Hardenberg re- 
quest your majesty to grant them an audience.” 

“ Hardenberg ! ” exclaimed Louisa joyfully, and 
her pale face brightened. “ Oh, let them come 
in — immediately ! ” 

The queen quickly left the divan and walked 
toward the door. But Madame von Berg hastened 
to reach it before her and opened it. “ Come in, 
gentlemen,” she said ; “ her majesty is waiting for 
you ! ” 

“ Yes, I am waiting for you,” exclaimed Louisa, 
meeting them, and with a sweet smile extending 
both her hands. 

The ministers bowed and kissed her hand. 
Madame von Berg had in the mean time locked 
the door leading into the small anteroom, and 
withdrew softly by the opposite door. 

“ Then you received the message the king sent 
you ? ” asked the queen, turning toward Baron 
von Stein. “ And you did not hesitate a moment 
to come here ? And you, count,” added she, 
turning toward Hardenberg, “you did the same as 
this faithful friend ? Having heard that the de- 
cisive moment had come, you did not hesitate to 
offer your services to your king ? Oh, I thank 
you, gentlemen ; I thank you in the name of my 


68 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


husband, of my children, and of our country ! In 
these days of danger and distress, when all are 
w'avering and fearful, it does my heart good t6 
meet with unswerving fealty and devotion. Ah, 
so many have proved faithless and deserted 
us!” 

“ But so many also have remained faithful, your 
majesty,” said Hardenberg, “ so many have proved 
true and loyal ! ” 

The queen gazed at him long and mournfully. 
“Few,” she said, “alas, very few! You say so 
only in your magnanimity, because you do not 
care to make your loyalty appear as something 
extraordinary. But, look around in Prussia — 
look at our fortresses ! Everywhere treachery 
and cow'ardice — everywhere perfidy I I will not 
speak to you of Stettin, of Kiistrin, of Spandau, of 
Anclam, and Erfurt ! You know already that we 
have lost them. But have you learned the dread- 
ful tidings we received yesterday ? Do you know 
that Magdeburg has surrendered ? ” 

“ Magdeburg I ” ejaculated Stein and Harden- 
burg, at the same time. 

Louisa nodded sadly, and her eyes filled with 
tears. “ It was our last bulwark,” she said, “ and 
it is gone, too ! I have wept much since yester- 
day. Now I will be calm, and force my grief back 
into my heart. But as Mary, Queen of England, 
said at the capture of Calais, ‘If my heart were 
opened, you would find on it the name of Magde- 
burg in bloody letters I ’ ” * 

“ It is true,” said Hardenberg, gloomily, “ it is 
a great disaster. A fortress so well supplied with 
every thing, and a garrison of more than ten thou- 
sand men 1 ” 

“ If your majesty will permit me, I ask, how 
did this intelligence impress the king?” said 
Baron von Stein, 

“ He bore it with resignation, and that calm 
courage which never leaves him in these days of 
affliction,” said Louisa, quickly. “ But his so- 
called friends and advisers, Messrs, von Ilaugwitz, 
Kockeritz, Yoss, and Kalkreuth, received the 
heart-rending news wdth secret satisfaction, I 
read it in their faces, notwithstanding the sadness 
they assumed. They regard the fall of Magdeburg 
as an ally of their intentions and schemes. They 
desire peace with France — peace at any price — 
and hope that the king will now approve their 
views. Hence, Minister von Stein, Madame von 
Berg had to give a letter to the courier yesterday, 
in which I urged you to comply with the king’s 
orders, and to come here immediately. Hence, 
Count von Hardenberg, I am glad that you have 


come, too, Ob, I know very well what it must 
have cost your noble heart to come without being 
expressly requested ; but you did so for the sake 
of the crushed and prostrate fatherland — I know 
it very well — and not for Prussia, not for us, but 
for Germany, on whose neck the tyrant has placed 
his foot, and which he will strangle unless the 
good and the brave unite their whole strength and 
hurl him off.” 

“ I came here,” said Hardenberg, “ because I 
remembered that hour when your majesty permit- 
ted me to give an oath of unwavering fealty and 
devotion — that hour when you condescended to 
accept my hand for our league against France, 
and when you vowed to exert yourself to the best 
of your ability to maintain the policy Prussia had 
entered into, and not to suffer her king ever to 
accept the perfidious friendship of France! ” 

“ I have never forgotten that hour,” said the 
queen, gravely. “He who joined us in taking 
that pledge at the solemn moment you refer to. 
Prince Louis Ferdinand, has sealed his vow with 
his death : he is sleeping on the field of honor. 
But I feel convinced that he is looking down on 
us from heaven ; and, if it be given to the spirits 
of the blessed to influence the affairs of mortals, he 
will instil his ardor into our breast, and assist us 
in reaching the true goal. But w^hat is that goal ? 
and what the true way ? My short-sighted eye is 
not able to discern it. When I behold the tre- 
mendous successes of the conqueror, I am per- 
plexed, and ask myself whether it be not evident 
that will make him master of the world, and 
whether, consequently, it be not in vain to strug- 
gle against him ? Oh, my soul is at times engaged 
in terrible conflict with itself, and gloomy doubts 
frighten it. But I feel now that we are on the 
eve of the crisis, and that the present day will 
decide our whole future. Grand-Marshal Duroc 
will reach this city to-day; Colonel von Rauch, 
wdio preceded him, has already arrived. He de- 
livered to the king the treaty of peace, which M. 
de Zastrow and Lucchesini concluded with Talley- 
rand at Charlottenburg. Napoleon has already 
signed it. Only the king’s signature is wanting, 
and, as soon as he aflSxes it, we are the friends and 
vassals of the emperor of France, and must either 
lay the sw’ord aside, or, if he should command us 
to do so, draw it against Russia, our present ally. 
A stroke of the pen will determine the future of 
Prussia and the fate of my children. Now, help 
me and all of us ! — now, advise me as to what 
ought to be done I Tell me your honest opinion 
as freely and sincerely as though you w^ere stand- 
ing before God ! Count von Hardenberg, pray, 
speak first ! Do you believe it to be necessary 


* Louisa’s own words. — Vide “ Queen Louisa,” p. 316. 


THE TREATY OF CHARLOTTENBURG. 


69 


for the welfare of Prussia, of my children, and, 
above all, of my husband, that the king should 
approve the treaty ? ” 

“ Your majesty is aware that I never advised 
the king to form an alliance with France,” said 
Hardenberg, “ and that my most sacred convic- 
tion will ever prevent me from doing so. But, in 
order to pass an opinion on the treaty of Charlot- 
tenburg, I ought to know its provisions, and 
your majesty is aware that the king has not per- 
mitted me of late to take part in the negotiations. 
I do not know what the treaty contained.” 

■ “ Nor I either,” said Baron von Stein, when the 
queen turned toward him with an inquiring glance. 
“ But I know those who concluded it ; I know that 
M. de Lucchesini and M. de Zastrow believe no sa- 
crifice, no humiliation too great, if they can thereby 
succeed in making peace with France. I know 
that Talleyrand is wily enough to profit by their 
weakness, their cowardice, and lack of true honor ; 
and I know, finally, that if Napoleon signs a 
treaty of peace with Prussia now, it cannot but 
be advantageous to him, and humiliating to 
Prussia.” 

“ I will tell you what the treaty contains,” said 
a grave voice behind them. 

“ The king ! ” exclaimed Louisa, rising quickly 
and hastening to him. 

He greeted her cordially, and gave her his 
hand. “ I wished to see you in your cabi- 
net,” he said, smiling, “ and thus overheard the 
last words of the secret council which is held 
here.” 

Louisa blushed slightly ; the king noticed it, 
and shook his head a little. “It is quite agree- 
able to me,” he said, turning toward the two min- 
isters, “that the queen informs herself of the 
state of our affairs and of politics generally, 
consulting men in whose loyalty' and devotion 
she reposes confidence. We must know our fate 
accurately and thoroughly, in order to look it 
courageously in the face, and decide on such 
measures as are most conducive to our welfare. 
Moreover, the queen has hitherto bravely shared 
all our dangers and hardships; it is, therefore, 
but just that she should take part in our consul- 
tations.” 

“ Oh, my king and husband,” exclaimed Louisa, 
pressing his hand against her bosom, “ I thank 
you for your kindness and generosity. I thank 
you for not sending me back into the narrow 
sphere of woman ; for permitting me to look be- 
yond the threshold of my apartments, and to have 
a heart for the calamities of our country.” 

The king nodded kindly to her, and then turned 
to the two ministers, who had respectfully with- 


drawn toward the door. “ I invited you to come 
here, M. Mnister von Stein,” he said, “ that you 
might participate in a meeting of the cabinet, at 
which our course in regard to the treaty of Char- 
lottenburg is to be decided. I am glad that you 
have come. And,” added he, addressing Harden- 
berg, “ I am glad also that you are here. I like 
men who, conscious of their worth, are not irri- 
tated at being seemingly neglected. I know how 
to appreciate the fact that you are standing by us in 
these times of adversity, and not looking out only 
for your own quiet and comfort. I am fully 
aware that you are not pursuing this course from 
selfish motives, and that you are rich enough to 
live without any public position — richer, perhaps, 
than your king ! Well, the queen requested 
you to give her your opinion about the treaty of 
Chari ottenburg, and I came in and interrupted 
you.” 

“Your majesty heard that these gentlemen as- 
sured me they were ignorant of the contents of 
the treaty,” said the queen, fixing her beaming 
eyes on the calm, grave face of her husband ; 
“ your majesty, on entering the room, were kind 
enough to say you would communicate the con- 
tents to us.” 

“ I will do so, to keep the gentlemen posted,” 
said the king — “ not, however, as king, but as a 
friend, whom you, Louisa, will authorize to take 
part in the deliberations of this secret council of 
state. Hence, let us proceed without any regard 
to etiquette. I did not want to preside over, but 
merely to attend your consultation, and to tell 
you what you are ignorant of. Resume your 
seats, therefore.” 

“ And you, dear husband ! ” asked the queen, 
sitting down again on the divan, “ will you be 
so kind as to take a seat by my side ? ” 

The king nodded, and sat down by her side, 
while the ministers took seats opposite. “ Listen, 
then, to the terms of peace,” said the king. “ The 
Emperor Napoleon demands the whole territory 
situated on the right bank of the Vistula, from 
the point where the river enters the Prussian 
states, to its mouth. Besides, he demands the sur- 
render of the fortresses of Kolberg, Hameln, 
Nienburg, Glogau, and Breslau ; the cession of 
the whole of Silesia, on the right bank of the Oder, 
with the greater part of the section of this prov- 
ince lying on the left bank of that river. He, 
moreover, demands the city and fortress of Grau- 
denz; he requires all the Prussian forces to 
withdraw to Konigsberg and its environs, and 
that the Russian troops shall evacuate our states 
immediately. After all these conditions have been 
complied with in the most scrupulous manner, 


10 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


either side is to be at liberty to resume hostilities 
ten days after giving due notice thereof.” * 

The queen, no longer able to suppress her agi- 
tation, uttered a cry, and turned toward her hus- 
band with glowing cheeks and flashing eyes. 
“And what does he ojffer us in return for all 
these humiliations ? ” she asked. “ How is he 
going to reward us for selling to him our prov- 
inces, our fortresses, and our honor ? ” 

“ In return,” said the king, slowly, laying stress 
on every word — “in return, he holds out to us 
the prospect of marching soon as his ally against 
Russia, and of supporting the Ottoman Porte. A 
second note, which Talleyrand drew up in the 
name of his master, and communicated to our en- 
voy, was added. This note stated that, inasmuch 
as France, owing to constantly renewed wars, as 
well as her allies, Spain and Holland, had lost 
their most flourishing colonies in Asia and in the 
West Indies, and were compelled, for the fourth 
time, to fight in their own defence, justice and 
reason authorized the emperor to seek compen- 
sations on this side of the seas for the losses he 
and his allies had suffered, and to look for these 
compensations in those countries which, by vir- 
tue of his victories, he had the power to dis- 
pose of in such a manner as he deemed best. 
The greatest evil which Prussia had brought 
about by the last war, for which she alone was 
responsible, was the fact that the Ottoman Porte 
had been deprived thereby of its independence ; 
for, owing to the insulting and threatening de- 
mands of the Emperor of Russia, two princes, 
who had been justly banished from the posses- 
sions of the Sultan, had been placed at the head 
of the government of the Danubian principalities, 
so that Moldavia and Wallachia were at present 
nothing else than Russian provinces. ‘According- 
ly,’ concludes Talleyrand’s note, ‘ so long as the 
Sultan should not have recovered the legitimate 
sovereignty over these provinces, the emperor 
would not consent to give up any countries which 
the fortune of war had placed in his hands, or 
which he might conquer hereafter.’ ” j- 

“ That is to say,” exclaimed the queen, pas- 
sionately, “that Napoleon declares war against 
Russia, and, if ve make peace with him, we must 
take up arms against that empire.” 

“ That will be inevitable,” said the king, com- 
posedly. “ Besides this note, Talleyrand com- 
municated some important information to our 
ambassadors. He told them that Napoleon, be- 
fore setting out from Berlin, would issue a decree, 

* Vide “Prussia in the Years 1806 and 1807” — a Diary, 
ly n. V. Schladen, p. 57. 

+ “ Mdmoires d’un Ilomme d’Etat,” voL ix., p. 341. 


absolutely prohibiting all commerce with Eng- 
land, and ordering, further, that all letters coming 
from or going to that country, addressed to an 
Englishman, or written in English, were to be 
stopped at the post-offices ; that all goods, the 
produce of English manufactures, or of English 
colonies, were to be confiscated, not only on the 
coast, but in the interior, in the houses of the 
merchants by whom they should be retained ; 
that every vessel, having only touched at the Eng- 
lish colonies, or at any of the ports of the three 
kingdoms, should be forbidden to enter French 
ports, or ports under subjection to France, and 
that every Englishman whatsoever, seized in 
France, or in the countries under subjection to 
her arms, should be declared a prisoner of war.* 
Now,” added he, in a subdued tone, “ I have 
finished my communication. You know the 
treaty of peace, and every thing belonging to it. 
You will be able to form a definite opinion with 
regard to it ; you can, accordingly, fulfil the 
queen’s wish, and tell her whether you would ad- 
vise me to sign it. Speak ! and remember that 
here, in this room, I am not the king, but only 
the queen’s friend, happening to be present at 
your consultation. It, therefore, behooves me to 
be silent, and to listen.” 

— ■ ♦ ■ 

CHAPTER XYII. 

THE SECKET COUNCIL OP STATE. 

The king leaned back, and, supporting his head 
on his arms, shaded his face with his hands, as if 
it were a screen that was to conceal the expres- 
sion of his features. The queen turned with a 
sweet smile toward the two gentlemen. “ My 
husband having permitted it,” she said, “pray, 
speak. Let me hear your views. And as I deem 
the opinions of both of you equally important, I 
do not know whom to request to commence. Let 
the oldest speak first.” 

“ Then, your majesty, I must speak,” said Har- 
denberg, bowing low, “ I know that I am seven 
years older than Baron von Stein. He surpasses 
me in wisdom as I do him in years.” 

“Well, speak,” said Louisa. “What do you 
think of this treaty ? ” 

“ I think it is a new proof of the reckless pride 
of Bonaparte,” said Hardenberg. “ In order to 
appreciate it correctly it is necessary for us to 
look back into the past, and to remember how 


* Thiers, “ Consulat et Empire,” vol. vii., p. 880. 


THE SECRET COUNCIL OF STATE. 


VI 


this war arose, which the emperor asserts to have 
been provoked by Prussia. But the king, our 
most gracious master, never desired war ; on the 
contrary, he withstood, for a long while, the wishes 
of his ministers, his court, his people, and his 
army. He would have avoided the war, if Napo- 
leon had allowed him to form a Confederation of 
the North, conservative in its tendencies, but not 
hostile to the Confederation of the Rhine. De- 
ceived, menaced, insulted, the king continued ne- 
gotiating to the last moment, and did not cease 
hoping that France would acknowledge that she 
was wrong, and yield to the remonstrances and 
wishes of Prussia. The king wms arming, it is 
true, but only for the purpose of supporting his just 
and strictly pacific demands by such a military 
demonstration. Compelled by Napoleon, he had 
to obey the dictates of honor at last and draw his 
sword. The fortunes of war decided against him ; 
he was defeated. He commenced negotiating 
again ; for the sake of the welfare of his people 
he submitted to the most rigorous terms which 
the conqueror imposed on him ; but Napoleon, in- 
stead of appreciating this, became only the more 
arrogant and insatiable in his demands. The 
king’s willingness to accept those terms was of 
no avail ; the conditions which had been imposed 
on him were repudiated and nullified. Every new 
triumph, every new capitulation of a fortress, 
caused the emperor to render his demands more 
rigorous ; and he dares now to offer a treaty, which 
would reduce the kingdom of Prussia to a single 
province — which could not but render the king’s 
position even more precarious, and would be the 
depth of humiliation, without offering the least 
prospect of a speedy and lasting recovery from 
our past disasters. If Prussia should accept this 
utterly illusory compact, she would thereby de- 
liver herself completely into the hands of an in- 
satiable enemy, whose ambitious schemes are well 
known, and deprive herself of the only support 
still remaining. She would betray Russia and not 
save herself by this treachery, but only accelerate 
her own utter ruin. No one can dare to advise 
the king to sign such a piaper, and, least of all, 
myself, after constantly opposing an alliance 
with France, even at a time when it would seem- 
ingly have been advantageous to Prussia. Your 
majesty ordered me to express my opinion, and I 
have done so to the best of my conviction,” 

The queen thanked him by a slight bow, and 
then turned toward Baron von Stein. “And 
you ? ” she asked, “ will you communicate to me 
your views about this treaty which our envoys 
have already signed at Charlottenburg ? ” 

“ Your majesty,” said Baron von Stein, quickly, 


“ I lack the wise composure and smiling calmness 
of Count von Hardenberg. It was not given me 
to weigh the interests and the conduct of friends 
and foes with prudent tranquillity and magnani- 
mous impartiality. I am no polished courtier, but 
only a blunt, upright German, and as such your 
majesty must allow me to speak to you. Well, 
my honest German heart revolts at what M. Napo- 
leon is pleased to call a treaty of peace, and what, 
it seems to me, would be but a pact with degrada- 
tion, dishonor, and disgrace. If I had been in the 
place of Messrs, de Zastrow and Lucchesini, I would 
have allowed my right hand to be cut off rather 
than to be prevailed upon to sign any thing so 
ignominious ; I would have died rather than sur- 
render at discretion in so humiliating a manner. 
I know full well that these gentlemen have done 
so only in order to save the political existence of 
the king and his state. But how little do they 
know fhe intentions and schemes of our powerful 
adversary, whom only the most determined and ob- 
stinate resistance can induce to be moderate in his 
exactions, and who, so soon as he has nothing to 
fear, shrinks from nothing ! As soon as the king, 
according to these stipulations, has surrendered 
to him his fortresses and Silesian possessions, Na- 
poleon will give notice that he resumes hostilities 
within ten days, and the king having not sufficient 
power to offer him any resistance, the loss of his 
last and only possessions would be the natural 
consequence. Napoleon would even manage mat- 
ters in such a way as to leave it to other hands to 
carry out this last spoliation. It is well known 
what prospects he held out in Berlin to the depu- 
tation of the Poles, and by what words and 
promises he instigated them to rise. He now de- 
mands the removal of our troops from Graudenz 
and its environs, that is to say from Prussian 
Poland. He wishes to promote the insurrection 
in Poland, and to assist the Poles as efficiently as 
possible, so that we should lose these provinces 
during the cessation of hostilities. His majesty, 
moreover, is unable to enter into an engagement 
concerning the withdrawal of the Russian troops, 
and the last fortresses, therefore, would be sacri- 
ficed in vain. But it is just as little in the power 
of the king to induce the Emperor of Russia to 
waive his just claims against the Porte, or to de- 
prive the Hospodars of Moldavia and Wallachia of 
the protection pledged to them. The Russian em- 
peror has already marched his troops into Moldavia. 
The struggle with the Porte has begun, and his 
honor will not permit him to recede from the 
stand he has taken. Up to this hour he has re- 
mained unwaveringly faithful, in words as well as 
in actions, to his Prussian ally. A large Russian 


72 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


army is already approaching our frontier, and it is 
said the Czar himself is accompanying it in order 
to join the Prussian forces and then attack Napo- 
'leon. By signing the treaty of Charlottenburg, 
however, the King of Prussia would not only have 
to reject the assistance offered him, but be com- 
pelled to turn his sword against him who, in his 
generous friendship, is coming to help him fight 
for the preservation of his states. 

“ This so-called treaty of peace would raise up 
two new enemies against Prussia, and without 
changing her old foe, France, into a firm and re- 
liable friend. The first of these is Eussia, which 
Prussia would have deserted in the most per- 
fidious manner ; the second is Great Britain, which 
would wage war against the ally of France as well 
as against France herself. Napoleon, by that de- 
cree against English goods, property, and sub- 
jects, throws down a new gauntlet to Great Brit- 
ain, for it is the beginning of a blockade of the 
entire continent ; and William Pitt, the great and 
heroic minister of King George, will assuredly 
accept the challenge. It will kindle anew the 
whole fire of his hatred and vengeance, and he 
will urge the full power of England against France. 
Now, Talleyrand has declared loudly that Na- 
poleon would allow Prussia to maintain her ex- 
istence as an independent state, only if England 
and Eussia should make peace with him on ac- 
ceptable terms. Neither, however, will do this, 
and Prussia, consequently, would be irretrievably 
lost by accepting these conditions; for she would 
then have three enemies and not a single ally. 
Not only honor, but also prudence commands us 
to reject the treaty. Not to obey the dictates of 
those two powers would be to hurl Prussia into 
an abyss of wretchedness, where she would not 
hear the sympathetic lamentations of a single 
ally, but the scornful laughter of the world. I 
hope that the king may preserve Prussia from 
such consequences, and graciously permit us to 
maintain, amid our disasters and sorrows, a clear 
conscience and erect head, as it behooves men 
more willing to die than give up honor and 
liberty ! 

“Your majesty must pardon me if I have spo- 
ken too freely and unreservedly. But you com- 
manded me to express my honest opinion. I 
have done so, and pray you to forgive me if my 
words have not been sufficiently delicate and well 
chosen.” 

“ I have nothing to pardon, only to thank 
you,” said the queen, “as well as Count von 
Hardenberg. Both of you have permitted me to 
look into the innermost recesses of your hearts. 
You have spoken according to your honest con- 


viction : I thank you ! ” And turning her radiant 
eyes toward the king, Louisa added in a tone of 
profound emotion, “ Your majesty, we have lost 
Magdeburg! But are not such men as these 
worth more than a fortress ? Fortresses may 
fall, but so long as we shall have such men by 
our side, Prussia will not be lost 1 ” 

The king, who had been sitting all the while in 
the same attitude, his head supported on his arm, 
and his fiice hidden behind his hand, slowly 
dropped it and looked long and inquiringly at 
the queen. “It is your turn now to express 
your opinion,” he said, calmly. “ I believe you 
owe it to your advisers to tell them what you 
think of it. You thank those who speak to you 
honestly and truthfully, by answering them in the 
same manner., I, therefore, request the queen 
now to speak in her turn, and to tell us what she 
thinks of this treaty.” 

“ I think, my king and husband, that I would 
rather be killed by the first cannon-ball discharged 
against France than sanction this ignominious 
treaty,” exclaimed the queen, with glowing cheeks, 
and with passionate impetuosity. “I think that, 
in case you sign it, I should never dare to set 
foot again in the palace of Charlottenburg, be- 
cause it would seem to me as though I were not 
allowed to raise my eyes either to man or to God, 
for the human heart turns away from the per- 
fidious and dishonored, and God Himself has no 
mercy on them. I should think the walls of this 
house would fall upon us to hide our shame — I 
should shrink shudderingly from every table, be- 
cause that treaty might have been signed on it 
which is to render us recreant to duty, and to 
steal our unsullied honor. No ! let us be humil- 
iated, and succumb with a clear conscience, rather 
than accept the friendship and alliance of the 
Corsican, at the expense of principle I ” 

“ Ah 1 ” muttered the king, bowing his head, 
“ if words could be transformed into swords, you 
would win battles for me to-day. Unfortunately, 
however, soldiers are necessary for that purpose, 
and I have no army. Your words may be the 
dragon’s teeth from which anned warriors may 
spring, but they might turn against ourselves and 
annihilate us ! ” He paused and looked down 
musingly. The queen dared not disturb his reflec- 
tions, and gazed at him in silence and with an air 
of tender sympathy. The two ministers looked 
no less grave, and waited until he would interrupt 
the silence and address them. 

The king raised his head and looked at the 
clock. “Four o’clock,” he said, rising more 
hastily than usual. “I have ordered the min- 
isters and generals to assemble at the rooms of 


THE SECRET COUNCIL OF STATE. 


IS 


Minister von Haugwitz, and told them that I 
should be present. I like to be punctual. Let 
us go then, gentlemen ; it is time for us to be at 
the conference.” 

The two ministers rose to take leave of the 
queen. Louisa gave each of them her hand, 
which they kissed, and she dismissed them with 
a grateful glance. The king kindly waved his 
hand, and, after they had left the room, turned 
to the queen. “ Farewell, dear Louisa,” he said, 
offering his hand to her ; “ official duties are call- 
ing me, and so long as I am king I must not neg- 
lect them. I came to you in order to dispel my 
cares a little by chatting with you, and instead of 
doing so I had to be present at a meeting of a 
secret council of state. The unfortunate have no 
time for' recreation, and that may be useful and 
salutary, after all. Farewell, then ; I must go to 
Haugwitz’s rooms.” 

He was about to leave, but the queen grasped 
his hand, and gazed with an imploring glance 
searchingly at his calm and impenetrable counte- 
nance. “ Oh, my husband,” she said, in a voice 
tremulous with emotion ; “ you are going to leave 
me thus? You do not utter a word of consola- 
tion and assurance ? ” 

The king kissed her on the forehead, and pointed 
to the clock. “ It is high time for me to go to 
the conference,” he said, and gently disengaging 
his hand hastened away. 

Louisa gazed after him until he had disappear- 
ed ; she then raised her hands and eyes to heaven. 
“ 0 my God,” she whispered, “ direct his resolu- 
tions, and cause him to choose what is right! 
Ob, give me strength to bear my misfortunes pa- 
tiently, and not to despair and murmur, even 
though the king should decide on another course 
than the one my heart longs for, and my reason 
believes to be right.” On casting down her eyes, 
she happened to see the open piano, and hastening 
to it her white hands commenced playing a soul- 
moving melody. She then sang, with tearful eyes 
and fervent voice : “ Wer nur den liehen Ooit Idsst 
walten, und hoffet auf ilin alle Zeit — ” 

Scarcely an hour had elapsed — the queen was 
still singing at the piano when the door behind 
her softly opened, and the king again entered. 
The carpet and the full notes of the piano pre- 
vented her hearing his footsteps. The king walked 
rapidly to his wife, and laid his hand on her 
shoulder. She started, and looked up to her hus- 
band with an inquiring, anxious glance, and rose 
slowly from her chair. 

“Louisa,” said the king, solemnly, “I have 
just returned from the conference of the minis- 
ters at Haugwitz’s rooms. Besides Prince Henry 


and myself, ten ministers, generals, and cabinet 
councillors were present. Seven advocated the 
ratification of the treaty of Charlottenburg ; four 
were opposed to it. The majority, therefore, were 
in favor of it.” 

The queen turned pale, and the painful quiver- 
ing of her lips betrayed her inward emotion. 
“There were eleven present besides you,” said 
she, breathlessly. “ Seven voted for ratifying the 
treaty ; four were opposed to it I But what did 
the king say, who had to decide every thing ? 
Did my beloved husband side with the major- 
ity ? ” 

“ The king,” said Frederick "William, slowly, 
“ decided in favor of the minority.” 

Louisa uttered a cry, and, seizing his hand, bent 
over and imprinted a warm kiss on it. “ Oh, 
my dear husband, you did not accept the igno- 
minious Charlottenburg bargain ? ” she asked, 
joyfully. “ You did not yield to the majority ? 
My God ! I thank Thee, for Thou hast fulfilled 
the most fervent wishes of my soul 1 Oh, my 
dear husband, if there were in my heart still a 
spot which love for you had not consecrated, it 
would be now ! My whole heart is filled with 
pride, delight, and esteem for you. We shall not 
make peace, then, with the tyrant, or accept the 
hypocritical friendship of our mortal foe — we shall 
remain faithful to ourselves, to our honor, and to 
our ally.” 

“ Yes, we shall reject that treaty,” said the 
king. “ We shall try to carry on the war. But 
let us not yield to illusions ; let us not endeavor 
to deceive ourselves by indulging in sanguine 
hopes 1 In again drawing the sword, we have to 
struggle for our existence, and -we may possibly 
fail.” 

“ Better to be buried under the ruins of the 
throne than to sit on it with the stigma of perfidy 
and dishonor 1 ” exclaimed the queen. “ Even 
the crown would not cover such a stain ! ” 

“We may lose our state and our crown, and be 
compelled to flee as nameless beggars across the 
Russian frontier. Are you prepared for it ? ” 

Louisa passionately encircled her husband’s 
neck with her arms, and looked him in the face 
with an air of unutterable tenderness. “ I am 
prepared for every thing, provided I may stay 
with you,” she said, affectionately. “ Let the 
worst befall us, it will find me calm and coura- 
geous, for I shall share it with you. Where you 
go I go. And though we should have to flee from 
our invincible enemy into the remotest wilds of 
Russia, my heart would be glad, for honor would 
accompany us, and love would be our comfort 1 ” 

The king laid his hand on her head, as if bless- 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


^4 

ing her, and clasped her in his arms. “You are 
a noble and heroic woman,” he said, “ and I thank 
God from the bottom of my heart for having given 
me such a wdfe. Pray for me, Louisa ; pray for 
all of us ! I will now go to receive the envoy of 
Napoleon, M. Duroc, and tell him that I must re- 
ject the treaty of Charlottenberg.” He pressed a 
kiss on the queen’s brow, and then crossed the 
room arm-in-arm with her. When about to go, 
he stood still and tenderly looked at her. “ Ah, 
Louisa,” he said, “ I forgot to tell you something. 
After informing the conference that I should not 
ratify the treaty, but continue the w^ar, I commis- 
sioned Ilaugwitz to draw' up a manifesto by which 
I would announce to my people the step I had re- 
solved upon. Count von Haugwitz, however, said 
he was unable to draw up such a manifesto, and 
offered his resignation, owing to his enfeebled 
health, and the disease of the eyes from which 
he is suffering.” 

The queen smiled, and an emotion of joy illu- 
minated her countenance. “ You have accepted 
his resignation ? ” she asked, breathlessly. 

“ I have accepted it. He will set out to-day 
for his estates. I must at once appoint his suc- 
cessor ; foi', in times such as these, I cannot do 
without a minister of foreign affairs. Can you 
I’ecommend any one to me whom you would deem 
espeeially qualified for the position, and in whom 
you have confidence ? ” 

The queen looked in surprise at her husband, 
and cast down her eyes, as if she feared he 
W'ould read in them thoughts conflicting wdth her 
w’ords. “ It does not behoove me to advise my 
sagacious and prudent husband,” she said. “ His 
wisdom will always be able to find the right man 
for the right place, and to appoint a minister 
competent to promote the interests of Prussia and 
her noble king.” 

“ Then you do not know of any one whom you 
would recommend to me ? ” asked he. 

Louisa looked down, and silently shook her 
bead. 

The king smiled. “Well,” he said, “in that 
case I myself must make the selection, and I 
have already done so. Baron von Stein is the 
man whom I will appoint minister of foreign 
affairs.” He did not give his wife time to reply, 
but left the room quickly, and closed the door. 

The queen gazed after him, her eyes radiant 
with joy. ' “ Oh,” she said, “ what a great and 
noble heart ! He w'ho conquers himself is a hero 
indeed. The king has overcome his own reluc- 
tance, and, contrary to his inclination, selected the 
man whom his head appreciates, but whom his 
heart does not love.” 


OHAPTEE XVIII. 

BARON TON STEIN. 

On the same day, after the king had given an 
audience to Grand-Marshal Duroc, and informed 
him that he rejected the treaty of Charlottenburg, 
he instructed Kockeritz and Beyme to offer the 
department of foreign affairs to Baron von Stein. 
But the baron had declined, declaring he w'as un- 
able to fill so difficult a position — that he lacked 
the necessary knowledge of affairs and forms, and 
the requisite skill in applying them so as to dis- 
charge the duties of so high an office in an efficient 
manner. The king, however, did not accept this 
refusal. He caused new offers to be made to 
him — requesting him ^ to take charge of the de- 
partment at least temporarily, and promising him 
a large salary, besides eight thousand dollars an- 
nually for household expenses. But Baron von 
Stein did not allow himself to be tempted by the 
brilliancy of the position, or the large compensa- 
tion. He adhered to his determination, and de- 
clined a second time, proposing to the king to 
appoint in his place, as minister of foreign affairs, 
Count von Hardenberg, that experienced and skil- 
ful statesman. 

The king shook his head indignantly, and bit 
his lips, as he was accustomed to do whenever he 
was angry. “ Tell Baron von Stein to come to 
me,” he said to General von Kockeritz. “I will 
speak to him myself.” 

General von Kockeritz hastened away, and an 
hour afterw'ard Baron von Stein entered the king’s 
cabinet. Frederick William was slowly pacing 
his room, with his hands joined behind him. He 
apparently did not notice the baron’s arrival, and 
passed him repeatedly without greeting or even 
looking at him. The minister, who at first had 
stood respectfully near the door, waiting to be 
accosted by the king, tired of this long silence, 
turned to the paintings hanging on the W'all, and, 
while contemplating them, passing from one to 
another, happened to push against a chair, which 
made a loud noise. 

The king was aroused from his meditation. He 
stood still before Baron von Stein, and looked 
with a stern air into his manly face. “ I offered 
you twice the department of foreign affairs,” he 
said, in his dry, abrupt manner. “ Why did you 
not accept it ? ” 

“ Your majesty, because I did not feel capable 
of filling it,” replied Stein, calmly, “and because 
there are worthier men who are better qualified 
for it.” 


r 


BARON VON STEIN. 


75 


The king shook his head. “ Subterfuges ! ” he 
said. “ Firm and bold men, such as jou, do not 
undervalue their own importance, but appreciate 
it eorreetly. In days so grave as these, it is ne- 
cessary for every one to be sincere. I want to be 
informed why you reject my offer. I have a right 
to insist on knowing your reasons. I am king 
still, and I believe my functionaries owe me an 
explanation when refusing to undertake a task 
which I ask them to pei’form. Speak, and tell 
me your reasons. I command you to do so.” 

“ Your majesty,” said Stein, with cold, proud 
equanimity, “ suppose, in order to comply with 
your command, I should allege some pretext or 
other in lieu of my real reasons, and, like Count 
von Haugwitz, base my refusal on my pretended 
ill-health ? How would your majesty be able to 
know whether I was sincere or not ? Even kings 
are not capable of looking into the hearts of men, 
and no orders can reveal secrets if we desire to 
conceal them. But I do not wish to hide my 
thoughts from your majesty. In compliance with 
your request, I will lay my reasons freely and sin- 
cerely before you. But, before doing so, I must 
ask your majesty to grant me two things.” 

“Well, what are they?” inquired the king, 
quickly. 

“ In the first place, I beg leave to be seated, for 
I have been ill, and am still weak.” 

The king sat down on the divan and pointed 
to an easy-chair standing near. “ Take a seat, and 
tell me your second request.” 

“ I must beg your majesty graciously to pardon 
my frankness, in case my words should not meet 
w ith your approval or should appear too bold and 
rash.” 

“ I wish to know the truth, and must, there- 
fore, have the courage to hear it,” said the king. 
“ Why did you decline ? ” 

“ Your majesty, my first reason, though you re- 
fused to believe it, is and remains, that I regard 
Count von Hardenberg as much better qualified 
than myself to take charge of the department of 
foreign affairs, because he enjoys the confidence 
of those courts with which your majesty intends 
keeping up friendly relations. Count von Har- 
denberg, moreover, has the confidence of your 
people, who, wherever they are permitted to do so, 
are loudly expressing themselves in his favor, and 
would consider this salutary appointment a con- 
solation and hope for the future. It seems unbe- 
coming in me to accept an office that should be 
intrusted to a minister distinguished for his faith- 
ful services in this department, and, under the pres- 
ent circumstances perhaps, highly influential al- 
leady by his very name.” 


“ Go on, go on,” said the king, impatiently. 
“ Say no more about Hardenberg. Tell me your 
other reasons.” 

“ Sire, my second reason is that, even though I 
accept the position, I should be unable to accom- 
plish in it what I should deem necessary for the 
welfare of the state. Your majesty, so long as 
there is no free and direct intercourse between 
you and your ministers — so long as there is a 
cabinet government in existence, separating the 
king from his ministers, and exercising an injuri- 
ous influence on the relations of the latter tow'ard 
the subordinate officers in their departments, 
your ministers cannot hope to promote the wel- 
fare of the state, and to introduce and carry out 
such measures as they deem indispensable for the 
best interests of the people. Your majesty’s min- 
isters have long since recognized and felt the dis- 
astrous influence of this government, which is 
watching with the utmost jealousy at the door of 
your cabinet, and keeping every minister from it 
and from direct intercourse with you. They were 
silent so long as Prussia appeared to be in pros- 
perous circumstances, and the inward germs of 
her degeneracy and decay could be concealed by 
a semblance of justice. But now every illusion 
of this character has been rudely dissipated, and 
it is time to beseech your majesty to abolish a 
system during the existence of which the calam- 
itous condition of our state has constantly and 
hopelessly increased. Fearful events have fol- 
lowed in quick succession, and the Prussian states 
have been plunged into disasters from which they 
can be restored only by the united strength of the 
whole people. Buh although the ministers are 
fully conscious of this state of affairs, and though 
they hold in their hands the remedies that might 
save the kingdom, they never would be sure that 
they can profit by them, for they see between 
them and the king a power without any well-de- 
fined functions, and without responsibility, med- 
dling with every thing and directing nothing — this 
power can foil the plans of the ministers at any 
time, reverse their measures, and counteract their 
advice.” 

“ I know very well,” said the king, angrily, 
“ that, like Hardenberg, you are constantly on bad 
terms with Kockeritz, Beyme, and Lombard, the 
members of my cabinet.” 

“ Sire, I do not attack persons, but privileges,” 
said Stein, gravely. “ If your majesty dismiss those 
gentlemen and select others, there would be no 
change for the better. If you do not permit the 
ministers to consult you directly concerning the 
affairs of their departments — if you do not rees- 
tablish the council of state, and abolish the irre- 


'76 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


sponsible cabinet, the position of your minister of 
foreign affairs would remain as it is now — an 
empty shadow. But if your majesty should 
gather your ministers around you as a regular 
council of state, and direct their loyal plans and 
counsels with that fatherly love for your subjects 
which you have manifested at all times, such a 
step would strengthen the confidence of your al- 
lies, restore the courage of the oppressed nation, 
inspire the conquered provinces with the deter- 
mination of shrinking from no danger in order 
to deliver themselves from the yoke of the oppres- 
sor, and counteract, in the countries remaining as 
yet intact, that discouragement which cannot but 
prevent the people from making any heroic efforts 
in self-defence. Such, sire,” added Stein, drawing 
a deep breath, “ are my honest opinions and con- 
victions. I lay them before your majesty with 
the sincerity and earnestness which the threaten- 
ing state of affairs renders it incumbent on me to 
manifest. My determination to share the fate of 
the monarchy, and of your majesty’s house, what- 
ever may be in store for them, is well known. 
But if you are unwilling to give up a system that 
I am satisfied has already brought so many calam- 
ities upon the country, and will continue to do 
60 — ^if the cabinet is to remain, and if the council 
of state, without which I believe Prussia cannot 
be saved, is not organized — I most humbly beg 
your majesty to accept my refusal.” 

“ You want to threaten me ! ” exclaimed the 
king. “You think, perhaps, you are alone able 
to save Prussia ? ” 

“No, your majesty,” said Stein, looking the 
king in the face ; “ no, I only believe that the 
present cabinet government is destined to ruin 
her.” 

The king looked down for a while musingly. 
“"VYell, what is your idea about the new council 
of state which you propose?” he asked after a 
pause. “Who is to belong to it? What is to 
be its object ? ” 

“ Its object is to be the intermediate voice be- 
tween the people and the king ; to lay before him 
the laws and ordinances, in order to obtain his 
approval and signature ; to publish such of them 
as he has sanctioned, and to be responsible to 
him for the administration of the country. But 
for all these reasons it would be indispensable 
that the ministers should be admitted to the king 
at any time, and be consulted as to any resolu- 
tions which he would take and in reference to 
any changes he would decide upon in the general 
policy of the government. The ministers of for- 
eign affairs, of war, and of finance, would form 
the nucleus of this council, and be as much as 


possible near the king’s person. If your majesty 
should travel, one of them at least would have to 
accompany you.” 

“ That is to say, you would depose me,” said 
the king, a deep blush mantling his cheeks. “ The 
ministers are to govern alone, and I am to have 
only the right of being a sort of writing-machine 
to sign their decrees.” 

“ No, your majesty, the king is to have the decid- 
ing voice in regard to every thing ; but he must 
graciously refrain from deciding any thing with- 
out having listened to the opinions of his min- 
isters.” 

“ And if I approve your proposition — if I as- 
semble in my cabinet every day a council of 
state, consisting of the ministers,” said the king, 
with seeming calmness, “ would you then be in- 
clined to accept the position I have offered you, 
and become minister of foreign affairs ? ” 

“ Sire,” said Stein, firmly, “ it would' not be 
enough for your majesty to appoint new minis- 
ters, and hold daily consultations with them, but 
you would have also to dismiss, formally and for- 
ever, the gentlemen who have hitherto monopo- 
lized your confidence. Unless Count von Haug- 
witz and Lombard be dismissed from the civil 
service — unless Beyme, who is suspected by and 
disagreeable to the Eussian court, and hated by 
a very large majority of our people, be deprived 
of his present office, the ministers cannot rely on 
any certain efficiency in their positions, and even 
the council of state would offer them no guaranty 
whatever against the continued secret cabinet 
consisting of Messrs, von Haugwitz, Lombard, 
and Beyme.” 

“ Enough,” exclaimed the king, rising hastily, 
and pacing the room. “ I have listened to you 
to the end, because I wished to see how far your 
audacity would go, and to gain a clear insight into 
your whole character. I was already prejudiced 
against you. It is true, I knew you were a 
thoughtful, talented, and bold man, but, at the 
same time, I believed you to be somewffiat eccen- 
tric ; in short, I regarded you as a man who, be- 
cause he always thinks only his own opinion to 
be correct, is unable to fill a position in w'hich he 
would constantly come in conflict wdth others, and 
soon be irritated and discouraged by the clash of 
opinions prevailing there. I overcame these pre- 
judices, because I have always striven to select the 
servants of the state, not according to the prompt- 
ings of personal whims, but of sensible reasons. 
I was advised to appoint you minister of foreign 
affairs ; and (please take notice of what I am about 
to tell you now) those who advised me to do so — 
those who advocated your appointment most 


BARON YON STEIN. 


17 


strenuously, were precisely 'the ones whom you 
are now attacking, and are bent upon overthrow- 
ing. I yielded ! I offered you the department 
of foreign affairs. You declined the position on 
the pretext of not being familiar enough with the 
details of the department. Your refusal was 
greatly embarrassing to me, for I still believed 
that your services ought to be preserved to the 
state and to myself. I overlooked your ungra- 
cious refusal, and sent for you to speak freely and 
openly with you. I have conversed with you, 
and now know you better!” 

The king, walking up and down, uttered these 
words with increasing excitement, and in a voice 
growing louder and louder, without looking once 
at Stein, who had risen from his seat, and, draw- 
ing himself up to his full height, listened to this 
angry outburst. The king stood still before him, 
and, fixing his piercing eyes on the calm, cold 
face of the baron, added, “ I have found out, to 
my regret, that my original opinion of your char- 
acter was not erroneous ; that my prejudices 
against you were just, and that you ought to be 
considered an obstinate, refractory, and disobe- 
dent servant of the state, who, boastfully relying 
on his genius and talents, so far from aiming at 
the welfare of his country, is actuated solely by 
his whims, his passions, and personal hatred. 
Such men are precisely those whose conduct 
is most injurious to the interests of the mon- 
archy.” 

“ Your majesty,” exclaimed Stein, impetuously, 
“ your majesty, I — ” 

“ Silence,” ejaculated the king, in an imperious 
voice, “ silence while I am speaking I I really 
feel sorry that you have compelled me to speak 
to you so plainly and unreservedly ; but, as you 
are always boasting of being a truthful man, I 
have told you my opinion in unvarnished lan- 
guage, and will add that, if you should be unwill- 
ing to change your disrespectful conduct, the 
state cannot count very confidently of profiting 
further by your services.” 

“Your majesty, I cannot change my conduct,” 
exclaimed Stein, pale with hidden anger, which 
he could no longer repress. “ As you believe me 
to be an ‘ obstinate, refractory, and disobedient 
servant of the state, who, boastfully relying on 
his genius and talents, so far from aiming at the 
welfare of his country, is actuated solely by his 
whims, his passions, and personal hatred — ’ ” 

“Ah,” interrupted the king, laughing scorn- 
fully, “ you have an excellent memory, for I be- 
lieve you are repeating my own words 1 ” 

“ Sire, this will show you that my conduct is 
not always disrespectful, but that I set so high a 


value on your royal words that they are immedi- 
diately engraved upon my memory,” said Baron 
von Stein, smiling. “ But, inasmuch as I am also 
of your majesty’s opinion that such officials as 
you have described me to be are most injurious 
to the interests of the monarchy, I must request 
your majesty to accept my declination, and I hope 
it will be granted immediately.” 

“You have pronounced your own sentence, and 
I do not know how to add any thing to it ! ” re- 
plied the king. 

Baron von Stein bowed. “I thank your ma- 
jesty most humbly,” he said. “Now I must beg 
that my dismissal from the service be communi- 
cated to me in the usual form. I have the honor 
to take leave of your majesty.” 

Without waiting for the king’s reply, the baron 
bowed a second time, and left the room with 
measured steps. He crossed the anteroom rap- 
idly, and then entered the apartment contiguous 
to the hall. A royal valet de chambre hastened 
to meet him. “ Your excellency,” he said, “ the 
queen begs you to be so kind as to go immediately 
to her. She instructed me to wait here till your 
return from the king, and ordered me to announce 
you directly to her majesty.” 

“Announce me, then,” said Baron von Stein, 
following the footman with a mournful air. 

The queen was in her cabinet, and rose from 
her divan when Baron von Stein entered. She 
offered her hand to the minister with a smile. 
“ I begged you to come to me,” she said, “ be- 
cause I intended to be the first to wish you — nay, 
ourselves — joy of your new position. The king 
has informed me that he would intrust the office 
of Count von Haugwitz to you, and I tell you 
truly that this is as a beam of light for me in the 
gloom of our present circumstances. I know that 
you are a true and faithful patriot ; that you have 
the welfare of Prussia, of Germany, and of our 
dynasty at heart, and that you have the will and 
the ability to help us all — this is the reason why 
I wish ourselves joy of — ” 

“ Pardon me, your majesty, for daring to inter- 
rupt you,” said Baron von Stein, in a low, melan- 
choly voice ; “ but I cannot accept your congrat- 
ulations. I was not appointed minister of foreign 
affairs, but the king has just granted my request 
to be dismissed from the service.” 

The queen started, and turned pale. “You did 
not accept the position which the king offered to 
you ? ” she asked. “ Oh, then I was mistaken in 
you, too ! There is, alas ! no more fidelity or 
constancy on earth ! ” She pressed her hand 
against her aching forehead, and tottered back a 
few steps, to sink exhausted on the divan. 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


Baron von Stein approached, and his face seemed 
to be radiant with energy and determination. “ No, 
queen,” he said, loudly and firmly — “ no ; you 
were not mistaken in me, and if your majesty 
hitherto believed me to be a faithful and reliable 
man, I am sure you only did me justice. Fealty 
does not change, however, and he who has once 
been found reliable will be so forever. No ; let 
me repeat once more, your majesty was not mis- 
taken in me, although I rejected the position of- 
fered to me. I fearlessly and truthfully stated to 
his majesty the conditions on which alone I could 
accept it. The king was unwilling to submit to 
these conditions ; he was angry at them and re- 
proached me in such a manner as to leave me no 
choice but to present him my humble declination, 
which he granted immediate!}'. I did not refuse 
his offer because the situation of the country 
frightened me, but because, above all, I had to 
remain faithful to myself, and obey the prompt- 
ings of my conviction. My love, my fealty, my 
soul, belong to Prussia and the royal dynasty. I 
retire into obscurity, and shall wait for the voice 
of Prussia and of my king. When he calls me — 
when he can profit by services such as I am able 
conscientiously to pei'form — when he permits me 
to be faithful to myself and to my principles, that 
all my energy and faculties may be devoted to 
the welfare of my country, I shall gladly be ready 
to obey his call and enter upon those services. I 
would come to him, though from the most remote 
regions, and even should death menace me at 
every step. A true man does not shrink from 
danger or death, but from hypocrisy and false- 
hood, whether it concerns himself or others ; he 
will not stoop to the tricks of diplomacy and dally 
with that which ought to be either forcibly re- 
moved from his path or carefully avoided, but 
with which he never ought to enter into compro- 
mise or alliance.” 

“ Now I understand you,” said the queen, gently 
and mournfully. “ You did not wish to enter into 
an alliance with the secret friends of the French 
in our suite. The king was unwilling to sacrifice 
Haugwitz, Beyme, and Lombard to you, and hence 
you withdraw from the service. You did right, 
and it makes my heart ache to be compelled to 
admit it. So long as those three men are here, 
there will be a policy of continued vacillation 
and hesitancy, and what you would do one day 
those three men would annul the next. Oh ! the 
king is so generous, so faithful and modest ! He 
believes in the disinterestedness of Minister von 
Haugwitz, in his honesty and sagacity; for this 
reason, he will not altogether give him up, and 
he listens still to his advice, although Haugwitz is 


no longer at the head of the foreign department. 
Because the king himself is taciturn, and tliinks 
and feels m'ore in his head and heart than is ut- 
tered by his lips, Beyme’s eloquence and quick 
perception fill him with respect ; and because he 
is so very modest, and always believes others to 
be more sagacious than himself, he esteems Lom- 
bard’s abilities highly, and -wishes to preserve his 
services to the state. You know what I think of 
Lombard, and that at Stettin I was carried away 
by my anger at his conduct, more than was com- 
patible with prudence. I caused the man to be 
arrested, whom I knew to be ready at that mo- 
ment to betray me and the whole of Prussia, and 
whom I suspected of being in the pay of the 
French emperor. But you know also that my act 
was repudiated, and that immediate steps were 
taken to annul it. A special courier was sent to 
Stettin to procure the release of Lombard, and to 
convey him under a safe-escort to Kiistrin ; the 
messenger even took an autograph letter from the 
king to him, in which his majesty regretted the 
occurrence as arising from mere mistake. I do 
not tell you this in order to complain of it, but to 
show you how deep-rooted is the influence of 
those men, and how time is required to destroy it. 
But the time will come — believe me, it i\dll — 
when Prussia will extend her hand toward you, 
and need your strong arm and firm will. Promise 
me that you will wait, and not give up to despair 
— that you will not enter the service of another 
monarch, so that, when Prussia calls you, you 
may be at liberty to respond.” 

“I promise it to your majesty,” said Stein, 
solemnly. “I will wait; blessed be the hour 
when Prussia needs me, and when I shall be able 
to serve her again ! ” 

“Yes, blessed be that hour!” exclaimed the 
queen, and, raising her eyes piously to heaven, she 
whispered, “ God grant that it may come soon, for 
then a change in our circumstances will have taken 
place, and we shall have passed from present in- 
certitude to firm determination. Oh, how much 
distress — how many disappointments and morti- 
fications — until that change shall come ! May -we 
have strength to bear, and courage to overcome 
them 1 ” 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE QUEEN AT THE PEASANT’S COTTAGE. 

It was a stormy night. The wdnd was howling 
through the pines, and driving the snow in dense 
clouds from the highway leading through the 


THE QUEEN AT THE PEASANT’S COTTAGE. 


'79 


forest. There was no sound save that of the 
winter’s gale, and the trees groaning beneath its 
power. A solitary light, twinkling as a star 
through the dark woods, was shedding its beams 
on this desolate scene. It proceeded from a small 
house near the main road, where the forest-keeper 
had peacefully Jived with his wife for’ more than 
twenty years. On the hearth in the cottage a 
merry fire was burning, and Katharine, the forest- 
keeper’s wife, was industriously occupied with it, 
while the young servant-girl, seated on a low cane 
chair near the hearth, her hands clasped on her 
lap, had fallen asleep. 

“Martha,” exclaimed the old woman, in an 
angry voice — “ Martha, are you asleep again ? ” 

The girl opened her eyes lazily and yawned. 
“ Why should I not sleep ? ” she asked. “ It is 
time to do so, and every Christian has long since 
gone to bed. Let me also go to my bedchamber 
and sleep ! ” 

“ No, you must stay here,” said Katharine, 
quickly ; “ I do not want to be alone in such a 
night. The wind is roaring in the chimney so 
fearfully that we might almost fancy Old Nick or 
the French were coming down to carry us away, 
or, at any rate, our last peace of bread and meat ! ” 

“ Meat ! ” ejaculated the servant-girl, laughing 
scornfully. “ Old Nick, or even the French, would 
be unable to find any meat in your house. Would 
that I could only get the wages you owe me for 
the last six months, I should leave forthwith this 
miserable place, where one has so little to eat, and 
where it is so dreadfully tiresome ! ” 

“ You have not suffered hunger as yet, Martha,” 
said the old woman, deprecatingly. “ It is true, 
we have no meat left ; the last ham we had has 
been consumed, and our last chickens had to be 
taken to town to be sold there — ” 

“ And your husband has taken away your only 
cow,” cried Martha, half angrily, half- sadly ; “he 
is going to sell the good animal that always gave 
us such excellent milk and butter. I tell you it is 
a shame that he should do so, and I shall never go 
back to the stable where my dear cow’s lowing 
will no more greet me ! ” 

“ You will, nevertheless, have to go back, 
Martha, for the two goats are still there ; you 
must give them fodder, so that they may give us 
milk. They are all we have left ! Do you think 
it did not grieve me to part with our fine cow 
which I had raised myself? I wept for her all 
last night, and would have given away my hand 
rather than sell her. But no one would have paid 
any thing for my old hand. We had to have 
money to pay your wages, so as not to be obliged 
to listen longer to your continued importunities. 


That was the reason why my good old man took 
the cow to town. It cut him to the quick to hear 
you dunning us all the time for a few dollars.” 

The servant-girl cast down her eyesand'^blushed. 
“ I did not mean any harm, Mde. Katharine,” she 
said, in confusion. “ It was mere talk ; I always 
hoped master would take a lesson from me and dun 
the count in the same manner for his own wages. 
But the great lords are living sumptuously, and 
do not care whether their servants are starving to 
death or not ! ” 

“ Our count, Martha, does not live sumptuously,” 
said Katharine, heaving a sigh. “ The French de- 
stroyed his palace, and — but hush ! Did you not 
hear something outside ? I thought I heard some 
one call.” 

The two women were silent and listened ; but 
nothing was to be heard. The storm was howding, 
and rattling the windows. At times an iron hand 
seemed to pass across the panes — it was the snow 
which the wind lashed against the house as if in- 
tending' to awaken the inmates from their slum- 
bers. 

“ A terrible night ! ” murmured Katharine, 
shuddering. “ I hope that my dear old man won’t 
return in such a storm, but stop with one of his 
friends at the neighboring village. Heaven pre- 
serve any human being out in such a night as this 
on the highway, and from — ” 

A loud knock at the window-panes inteiTupted 
her, and a voice ouside shouted imperiously, 
“ Open the door ! ” 

The two women uttered a shrill scream, and 
Martha clung anxiously and with both her hands 
to Katharine’s arm. 

“ I beseech you, Mde. Katharine,” she whis- 
pered with quivering lips, “ don’t open. It is as- 
suredly Old Nick or the French that want to come 
m!” 

“ Fiddlesticks ! The devil does not wait for the 
door to open, but comes down the flue,” said 
Katharine ; “ and as to the French, the Parlez-vous, 
why, they cannot speak German. Just hsten how 
they are commanding and begging outside. ‘ Open 
the door ! ’ Well, yes, yes ! I am coming. No 
one shall say that old Katharine suffered people to 
freeze to death in the forest while she had fire on her 
hearth.” Disengaging herself from Martha’s grasp, 
she hastened to the door, and opening it quickly, 
said, “ Whoever you may be, you are welcome ! ” 

The storm rushed in with a terrible noise, driv- 
ing the snow into the house, and blowing up the 
fire on the hearth into a still brighter blaze. 

There appeared on the threshold a tall lady, 
wrapped in a dark velvet cloak, trimmed with fur ; 
her head covered with a silken cape, to which a 


80 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


white lace veil was fastened. Behind her were 
another richly-dressed lady, and two men in blue 
coats, splendidly embroidered with silver.” 

“ You permit us, then, my dear woman, to enter 
your house and stop here overnight ? ” asked the 
veiled lady, in a gentle, sonorous voice. 

Old Katharine stood staring at her. She felt 
as frightened as if a sorceress had entered her 
house. “First let me see your face,” she said, 
growing bold notwithstanding her inward terror ; 
“ I must see who you are.” 

An indignant murmur arose among the attend- 
ants of the lady, but she ordered them to be quiet 
with a wave of her hand. She then turned once 
more to Katharine. “Well, my good woman, 
look at me,” she said, drawing back her veil. 

A pale, wondrously beautiful face w'as visible, 
and eyes more lustrous than the old woman 
had ever seen before, looked at her gently and 
kindly. 

“ Do you know me now ? ” asked the lady, with 
a smile full of touching melancholy. 

“No,” said Katharine, “I do not know you, 
but you are as beautiful as the angels that some- 
times appear to me in my dreams, or as the fairies 
of w'hom my mother used to tell me when I was 
a little child. Come in, you as well as the others. 
There is room at the hearth for all who are cold.” 

The strange lady smiled and advanced into the 
cottage ; before doing so, however, she turned 
around. “ M. von Schladen,” she said, in French, 
“ pray, give orders to all not to betray my in- 
cognito. I am here the Countess von Hohenzie- 
ritz ; please inform the servants of it.” 

The gentleman, who had just appeared on the 
threshold, bowed and stepped back. She and 
her companion approached the fire ; the two ser- 
vants, in their gorgeous 'liveries, stood in silence 
at the open door. The lady took off her fur 
gloves with a hasty motion, and held her small 
white hands toward the fire. A ring with large 
diamonds was sparkling on her forefinger. Old 
Katharine had never before seen any thing like 
it — she stood staring at the lady, and dreaming 
again of the fairy-stories of her childhood, while 
Martha sat on her cane chair as if petrified, and 
afraid lest the slightest noise should dispel the 
enchanting apparition. 

“ Oh, how pleasant this is ! ” said the lady, 
drawing a deep breath ; “ my hands were quite 
chilled. Countess Truchsess, come here and fol- 
low my example ! ” 

The young lady, who w'as standing near in a 
silent and respectful attitude, approached the 
fire, and eagerly stretched her small hands tow- 
ard it. 


“ How comfortable, is it not ? ” asked the lady 
who had styled herself Countess von Hohenzieritz. 
“ Oh, after suffering from the cold a wiiole day, 
we learn to appreciate the boon of that fire which 
otherwise we fear as a dangerous element.” And 
thoughtfully looking into the w^arm glow, she 
muttered to herself, “ We are now wandering 
about in the cold, and are chilled ; will no hos- 
pitable fire warm our hearts 4again ? ” She bent 
forward without uttering a complaint, or heaving 
a sigh. 

Katharine could not avert her eyes ; she gazed 
at the lady’s sparkling jewels, and then looked at 
her face. Suddenly she noticed two diamond 
drops roll slowly over her transparent cheeks ; 
but they were no diamonds like those flashing on 
her hands — they were tears. She shook them off 
with an impetuous motion, and turned to old 
Katharine, who, clasping her hands, asked her- 
self wonderingly whether angels could weep. 

“ My good woman,” said the countess, “ will 
you permit us to stay here until daybreak ? 
We have lost our way in the snow-storm. We 
thought to reach Konigsberg before nightfall, but, 
I suppose, the city is yet quite distant ? ” 

“ Ten hours, at least,” said Katharine, timidly. 
“ You have lost your way, indeed — probably at 
the cross-roads, two miles from here. Instead 
of following the main one, you took the side-road. 
Well, such things may happen to the most skilful 
driver, in a snow-storm, when he cannot see his 
hand before him.” 

“ I believe that such things may happen, and 
do not blame any one for what has occurred,” 
said the countess, gently. “ Tell me now, have 
you room and beds for all of us ? ” 

“ The tw'o ladies may sleep in my bed, pro- 
vided they occupy it together. But I have no 
others,” said Katharine. 

“ I need no bed,” exclaimed the younger lady, 
quickly ; “ I shall content myself with sitting at 
the fireside.” 

“ And I,” said M. von Schladen, who had just 
entered, “ I beg leave to be allowed to pass the 
night in the travelling-coach.” 

“ You will catch cold in the carriage, sir,” said 
Katharine, “ and there is danger, moreover, that, 
falling asleep, you might never wake again. But 
in the hay-loft it is warm and soft ; you and the 
other gentleman may sleep there, if you please.” 

The Countess Hohenzieritz smiled. “Weil,” 
she said, “ a high-chamberlain in a hay-loft ! 
That is a melancholy adventure, I should think ? ” 

“ No, gracious countess, it sounds quite ludi- 
crous,” said the high-chamberlain, “ and if only 
your if only the gracious countess had a 


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THE QUEEN AT THE PEASANT’S COTTAGE. 


81 


good bed, I should have no 'reason whatever for 
being melancholy. There are thousands nowa- 
days sleeping on the hard ground, without a bunch 
of hay for a pillow ! ” 

“ Our dead of Jena and Auerstadt, for in- 
stance,” said the countess, sighing. “ But they 
are well : the dead sleep gently ! At times I feel 
like envying them, for their rest is more peaceful 
than that of the living. Let us not murmur, but 
rejoice at having found shelter for the night ! 
We shall remain, then, in this room, and the 
high-chamberlain will sleep in the hay-loft. But 
where shall we place our servants, and what is to 
become of our horses ? ” 

“ How many horses have you ? ” asked Katha- 
rine. 

“ Six horses and an outrider,” said M. von Schla- 
den. 

“ What ! ” exclaimed Katharine, in dismay. 
“ Six horses ! How extravagant in times so 
wretched as these, when the king himself would 
be glad to have two horses to his carriage, 
and — ” 

“ Silence ! ” interrupted the high-chamberlain, 
in great excitement. 

“ You are right, my dear woman,” said the 
countess, smiling. “ The king will certainly be 
glad to have two horses left, especially if they 
always draw him in the right way. But it was 
no wanton arrogance on our part to take so many 
horses ; we did so only on account of the bad 
roads, and in order to travel as rapidly as pos- 
sible.” 

“Well, the horses can stand in the cow-stable 
and the wood-shed,” said Katharine. “ Go, Mar- 
tha, light the lanterns, and show the coachman 
to the stable, and the gentleman to the hay-loft. 
I will make the bed for the ladies.” And, draw- 
ing back the blue-striped linen curtains covering 
the large old family-bed, she muttered to herself : 
“ It is very lucky that my old man has not come 
home ; otherwise I should really be at a loss 
where to place my high-born guests.” 

Half an hour afterward tranquillity again 
reigned in the cottage. The horses, the servants, 
and the high-chamberlain, had been conducted to 
their quarters in the cow-stable, wood-shed, and 
hay-loft. Katharine and Martha had withdrawn 
to the servant-girl’s small chamber, and on the 
lower floor, which served, at the same time, as a 
kitchen, hall, and sitting-room, a couch had been 
prepared for the two ladies. But the young Count- 
ess von Truchsess could not be prevailed upon to 
occupy one-half. She placed the cane chair against 
the high bedstead, and, sitting on it as on a tabou- 
ret at the foot of a throne, she supported her head 
6 


on the cushions of the bed, over which the crim- 
son satin blanket, lined with fur, that the ladies 
had wrapped around their feet in the carriage, 
had been spread. The Countess von Hohenzieritz 
was reposing on this, her noble form still wrapped 
in the fur robe, falling down to her feet in ample 
folds ; her head was leaning back on the cush- 
ions, and the crimson of the blanket contrasted 
strikingly with her white cheeks and light-brown 
hair. She had clasped her small, slender hands 
on her lap ; her large eyes looked upward in de- 
votion, and her lips uttered fervent words, which 
no one heard and understood but He to whom 
they were addressed. . 

The fire on the hearth, to which large logs of 
wood had been added, continued blazing merrily ; 
at times, when the wind came down the chimney 
violently, the flames rose high, and the beautiful 
figure in the miserable room was illuminated by 
the red light as by a halo. Her countenance was 
as pale and peaceful as that of the blessed 
dead, and yet an ardent vitality was beaming in 
her unclosed eyes. On the wretched bed in the 
peasant’s cottage she was dreaming of her former 
happiness — of the magnificent days which she 
had seen, and which, she believed, would never 
return. But she did not bewail her departed 
glory, and her menaced welfare caused her no 
regret. 

“ Preserve to me, merciful God ! the love of my 
husband,” she whispered ; “ let my children grow 
great in name and in soul. Oh, if I could pur- 
chase happiness for them by sacrificing my life, 
I would gladly let my heart’s blood ebb away drop 
by drop — if by my death I could restore to my 
husband his former power, how cheerfully I would 
die ! 0 my God, save and protect Prussia : but 
if such should not be Thy will, teach us how to 
fall and die with her in an honorable manner ! 
Preserve us from disgrace and despondency ; teach 
us how to bear great disasters with dignified res- 
ignation, and grant that we may never be so faint- 
hearted as to sink beneath petty calamities ! ” 

She paused, and looked upward with radiant 
eyes; just then the storm outside was howling 
with awful violence, and made the cottage trem- 
ble. “ Such a storm without, and peace within ! 
Let it always be so, my God,” she whispered, 
gently pressing her hand against her breast. 
“ 0 peace, sweet peace, when will it descend to 
us from heaven ! ” Gradually the words died 
away on her lips ; her eyelids drooped. Heaven 
sent to her the brother of peace — sleep — that it 
might comfort her weary eyes and invigorate her 
after the troubles and exertions of the previous 
day. The storm continued all night long, but the 


82 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


beautiful sleeper heard it only as a lullaby hush- 
ing her to sweet repose. 

At daybreak there was a stir in the cottage. 
Katharine came to rekindle the extinct fire, and 
the two ladies rose, chilled and shuddering, to 
prepare for their journey. The travelling-coach, 
drawn by the six horses, rolled up to the door, 
and High-chamberlain von Schladen rapped tim- 
idly and begged leave to enter. The countess 
bade him come in, and replied with a sweet smile 
to his inquiries as to her night’s rest. “ I have 
slept,” she said, “ and feel sufficiently invigorated 
now to continue the journey.” 

“ In four hours we shall be in Konigsberg,” 
said M. von Schladen. “ It is a clear morning ; the 
storm is over, and the sun will soon burst forth 
from behind the clouds.” 

“ ‘ The sun will soon burst forth from behind 
the clouds,’ ” repeated the countess, musingly. 
“ Those are cjieering words ; could they but be 
fulfilled for all of us ! Let us hasten to reach 
Konigsberg ; for there at least will be one sun- 
beam for me — I shall see my children again, and 
my husband also will join us on returning from 
the Russian camp.” 

M. von Schladen advanced a few steps, and said 
in a low and hurried voice: “ The king is already 
in Konigsberg. I have seen a peasant, the owner 
of this cottage, who has come from Konigsberg. 
He walked all night, and left the city just at the 
moment when the king with his suite returned.” 

“ And did the man bring other news ? ” asked 
the lady, hastily. 

“A rumor was in circulation in Konigsberg 
that the French were advancing from Posen, and, 
the Russian columns being also on the move, it 
was generally believed that a battle would soon 
take place.” 

The lady walked rapidly to the door. “Let 
us set out as soon as possible,” she said ; sudden- 
ly, however, she turned pale and leaned against 
the wall to prevent herself from falling. 

“ Oh,” she murmured faintly, “ what weak, pit- 
iful beings we are, after all ! The soul is strong 
enough to bear the heaviest burden, but the body 
is so weak that a twelve hours’ fast is sufficient 
to overpower it ! ” 

Just then Katharine entered the room ; on see- 
ing the lady looking so faint, she hastened to her, 
and asked sympathizingly for the cause of her 
pallor and exhaustion. 

“ I will tell you, my dear woman,” whispered 
the lady, with a sad smile, “ I am hungry ! ” 

“ Oh,” sighed M. von Schladen, “ and we have 
no refreshments with us ! ” 

“ But I have some for the beautiful lady,” said 


Katharine, proudly. “ I was right in thinking 
that high-born people must eat sometimes, and 
are not refreshed merely by their magnificent 
dresses and the splendor surrounding them, but 
are obliged to put something into their mouths, 
like us common people. Look, there is Martha 
with the breakfast ! ” And, in truth, Martha was 
just entering the door, holding in her hand a 
pitcher filled with fresh, smoking milk. 

Katharine took an earthen cup from the shelf 
near the hearth, and filled it to the brim. “ Now 
drink,” she said, handing the cup to the countess ; 
“ it will strengthen you ; it is splendid goat’s 
milk, so fine and warm that city folks never get 
any thing like it ; no fire warmed this milk, but 
God, who gave life and warmth to my dear goat. 
Drink, then, in His name ! ” 

“ No refreshment has ever been presented to 
me in so cordial a manner,” said the countess, 
nodding kindly to the old peasant-woman. “ I 
shall carefully remember your heart-felt words, 
and drink the milk in the name of the good Lord, 
but only provided you. Countess Truchsess, and 
you, too, M. von Schladen, can hkewise have a cup 
of this splendid milk.” 

“We shall have some,” said the Countess 

von Truchsess ; “ please your , the gracious 

countess will please drink her milk.” The count- 
ess placed the cup on the window-sill without 
having touched it with her lips. “You see I am 
waiting,” she said — “ make haste ! ” She herself 
then hastened to the cupboard near the hearth, 
and took from it two small earthen jars, which 
she handed to Katharine to fill with milk. 

“ And have you not something to eat with the 
milk, my dear woman ? ” asked M. von Schladen, 
in a low voice. 

“ I have but a loaf of stale brown bread,” said 
Katharine, “ but I am afraid it will be too hard 
for the fine teeth of the countess.” 

“ Give it to me at all events,” said the count- 
ess, “ my teeth will be able to manage it.” 

Old Katharine took a large loaf of bread from 
the cupboard, cut off a thick slice, and presented 
it on the bright pewter plate, the principal orna- 
ment of her house. The countess broke off a 
piece, and, leaning against the window, com- 
menced eating her frugal breakfast. 

The Countess von Truchsess and the high-cham- 
berlain had retired to the hearth to partake of 
the strange and unwonted food. Katharine and 
Martha stood at the door, staring admiringly at 
the lady who was leaning against the window, 
and just lifting the stale brown bread to her 
mouth. She did not notice that the two were 
looking at her ; she was gazing thoughtfully at 


THE QUEEN AT THE PEASANT’S COTTAGE. 


83 


the large bedstead in which 'she had passed the 
night in tears and prayers. Her glance then 
turned to the piece of bread which she held in 
her hand, and from which she had vainly tried to 
eat. The bread and the bed reminded her of an 
hour long past, when she was a happy queen — an 
hour when her mental eye descried the future, 
and the words of a beautiful and melancholy song 
aroused in her anxious forebodings, and seemed 
to her a prophecy of her own destiny. As she 
thought of those golden days, her eyes filled with 
tears, which rolled over her cheeks and trickled 
down on the bread in her hand. “ Oh,” she 
murmured, “ now I shall be able to eat it ; I am 
softening it with my tears ! ” And to conceal 
them she averted her head, and looked out at the 
forest, whose lofty pines were adorned with snow- 
wreaths. Her tears gradually ceased — she drew 
the large diamond ring from her finger, and, using 
the pointed stone as a pen, wrote rapidly on the 
window-pane. 

Old Katharine and Martha stared at her in dis- 
may ; the characters appearing on the glass filled 
them with astonishment and superstitious awe, 
and they thought the handsome lady who knew 
how to write with a precious stone might after 
all be a fairy, who, persecuted by some evil sor- 
cerer, had fled thither into the dark forest, and 
was writing some exorcising words on the win- 
dow-pane, lest her enemy should pursue and have 
power over her. 

The lady replaced the ring on her finger, and 
turned to the young countess and the high-cham- 
berlain. “Now, I am ready,” she said, “let us 
set out.” She walked to the door, and shaking 
hands with old Katharine, thanked her for the 
hospitable reception she had met with in her cot- 
tage, and then stepped out of the low door for 
the carriage, at which the hi^h-chamberlain was 
awaiting her. 

“ I beg leave, gracious countess, to take upon 
myself the functions of our outrider. The road is 
broken and full of holes, and as I have a keen eye, 
I shall see them in time, and call the attention of 
the coachman to them.” 

The countess thanked him with a kind glance. 
“ I accept your offer,” she said — “ may a time 
come when I shall be able to thank my faithful 
friends for the ' attachment and devotion they 
manifest toward me during afliiction, and which 
are engraven in diamond letters on my heart ! 
But let us thank the good woman who received 
us so hospitably last night. I request you to give 
this to her in my name.” She handed her purse 
filled with %old-pieces to the high-chamberlain, and 
entered the carriage. M. von Schladen stood still 


until the carriage rolled away. Before mounting 
he hastened into the house. 

Old Katharine and Martha stood in the room, 
and were looking in silent astonishment at the 
neat characters on the pane, the meaning of 
which they were unable to decipher. “ Ob, sir,” 
exclaimed Katharine, when the high-chamberlaia 
entered the room, “ tell us the meaning of this — 
what did the lady write here ? ” 

M. von Schladen stepped to the window. When 
he had read the lines, his eyes filled with tears, 
and profound emotion was depicted in his fea- 
tures. “Enviable inmates of this humble cot- 
tage,’’ he said, “from this hour it has become a 
precious monument, and, when better times arrive, 
the Germans will make a pilgrimage to this spot 
to gaze with devout eyes at this historical relic 
of the days of adversity. Preserve the window 
carefully, for I tell you it is worth more than gold 
and diamonds.” 

“ Is it really, then, an exorcism which the beau- 
tiful fairy has written there ? ” asked Katharine, 
anxiously. 

“Yes, those are magic words,” replied M. von 
Schladen, “ and they read as follows : 

‘ "WTio never ate his bread with tears — 

Who never in the sorrowing hours 
Of night lay sunk in gloomy fears — 

He knows ye not, 0 heavenly powers 1 ’ ” * 

“ Ah, she ate her bread with tears to-day. I 
saw it,” murmured Katharine. “ But who is she, 
and what is her name ? Tell us, so that we may 
pray for her, sir.” 

“Her name is Louisa,” said M. von Schladen, in 
a tremulous voice. “At present she is a poor, 
afflicted woman, who is fleeing from town to 
town from her enemy, and eating her bread with 
tears, and weeping at night. But she is still 
the Queen of Prussia, and will remain so if there 
be justice in heaven ! ” 

“ The Queen of Prussia ! ” cried Katharine, 
holding up her hands in dismay. “ She was here 
and wrote that ? ” 

“ Yes, she wrote that, and sends this to you as 
a reward for your trouble,” said M. von Schladen, 
emptying the contents of the purse on the table. 
The purse itself he placed in his bosom. With- 
out waiting for the thanks of the surprised woman, 
he departed, vaulted into the saddle, and followed 
the queen at a full gallop. 


* “ Wer nie sein Brot mit Thranen ass, 

Wer nie die kummervollen Nachte 
.^uf seinem Bette weinend sass, 

Der kennt euch nicht, Ihr bimmlischen Machte.” 

Gothb. 


84 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


CHAPTER XX. 

COUNT PUCKLER. 

Perfidy and treachery everywhere! Magde- 
burg, Kiistrin, the most important fortresses 
of Prussia, had fallen. Not only the hand of the 
triumphant conqueror had brought about their 
downfall, but the timidity and cowardice prevail- 
ing among the Prussians themselves. Magde- 
burg, although abundantly supplied with ammu- 
nition, and garrisoned by more than ten thousand 
men, had surrendered. Kiistrin, Hameln, and 
a large majority of the other fortresses, had vol- 
untarily capitulated, almost without a show of re- 
sistance, on receiving the first summons to sur- 
render; the first cities of Prussia were now 
French ; the French were lawgivers everywhere, 
and the humiliated Prussians had to bow to the 
scornful arrogance of the victors. 

Still, there were at this time of sorrow and dis- 
grace shining examples of courage, of bold energy, 
and unwavering fidelity — there were fortresses 
that had not voluntarily opened their gates to 
the enemy, and that, regardless of hunger and 
privation, were struggling bravely for honor and 
victory. As yet Colberg had not fallen ; this 
fortress was courageously defended by Scharn- 
horst, the skilful and experienced colonel, by 
bold Ferdinand von Schill, and that noble citizen, 
Nettelbeck, who by word and deed fired the 
hearts of the soldiers and citizens to persist in 
their patient resistance and in the determined de- 
fence of the place. 

Graudenz had not surrendered to the besieg- 
ing forces. The commander of this fortress, M. 
de Courbieres, had not yielded either to the 
threats or the flatteries of the enemy. “ If it be 
true, as you assure me, that there is no longer a 
King of Prussia, I am King of Graudenz, and 
shall not surrender,” he replied to the bearer of 
the French flag of truce, who summoned him in 
the name of the Duke de Rovigo to capitulate. 

Silesia also had remained faithful, notwith- 
standing the action of Minister Count Hoym, who, 
in a public manifesto, had called upon the Sile- 
sians to meet the foe in the most amicable man- 
ner in case of an invasion, and to satisfy as much 
as possible all the demands of the hostile troops. 
The Silesians, more courageous and resolute than 
their minister, were unwilling to bend their necks 
voluntarily under the French yoke ; they preferred 
to struggle for their honor and independence. It 
is true, the fortress of Glogau had fallen, but 
Breslau and Schweiduitz were still holding out. 
Twice had Breslau repulsed Jerome Bonaparte 


with his besieging troops — twice had the detei^ 
mination of the courageous in the place triumphed 
over the anxiety of the timid and of the secret 
friends of the French. At the head of these bold 
defenders of Breslau was a man whose glorious 
example in the hour of danger had inspired all — 
infused courage into the timid, and brought com- 
fort to the suffering. This man was Count Fred- 
erick von Piickler. He did not take time to 
recover from the wounds he had received in Jena. 
Faithful to his oath, he devoted his services to 
his country, that stood so much in need of its sons. 
After a short repose on his estate at Gimmel, he 
repaired to the headquarters of King Frederick 
William at Ortelsburg. It is true, he could not 
bring him a regiment, or any material help ; still 
he was able to assist him with his ideas, and to 
show him the means of obtaining eflScacious help. 

Count Frederick von Piickler believed the king 
might derive assistance from the military re- 
sources of Silesia. He described to him, in ar- 
dent and eloquent words, the extensive means of 
defence retained by this rich province ; he assured 
him its inhabitants were faithful and devoted, and 
ready to shed their blood for their king. He 
told his majesty, freely and honestly, that the old 
civil and military bureaucracy alone v^as to blame 
— that Silesia had not long an organized effec- 
tive system of resistance — that this government 
had paralyzed the patriotic zeal of the citizens, 
instead of stimulating it — nay, that, by means of 
its insensate and ridiculous decrees, it had impeded 
in every way the development of the military 
resources of the province. He had not come, 
however, merely to find fault and to accuse, but, 
in spite of his sickness and his wounds, performed 
the long journey to the king’s headquarters in 
order to indicate to his sovereign the remedies 
by which the mischief might be counteracted, 
and the country preserved from utter subjugation. 
He communicated a plan by which new forces 
might be raised, and be enabled to take the field 
in a few days. All the old soldiers were to be re- 
called into the service ; the forest-keepers and 
their assistants were to be armed, and from these 
elements the landweJir was to be organized, and, 
intrusted with the special task of defending the 
fortresses. 

The king listened to the ardent and enthusi- 
astic words of the count with growing interest, 
and fiually Piickler’s joyful confidence and hope- 
ful courage filled him also ivith hope and con- 
solation. 

“You believe then that we could really obtain, 
by these new levies, brave troops for the defence 
of the fortress ? ” asked he. 


COUNT PUCKLER. 


“ I am coifvmced of it,” replied Count Piickler. 
“Ardent love for their fatherland and their king 
is glowing in the hearts of the Silesians, and they 
will be ready when called upon to defend the for- 
tresses. Hitherto, however, nobody has thought 
of appealing to the able-bodied men. Count Hoym 
has retired to the most remote part of Silesia, and 
is now wandering about from city to city. The 
military governor of Silesia, General Lindener, 
visited all the fortresses and told their command- 
ers that every thing was lost — that it only remained 
for them to protect themselves against a coup de 
main^ so as to obtain good terms on their sur- 
render.” 

The king started up, and an angry blush man- 
tled his face for a moment. “ If he said that, he 
is an infamous scoundrel, who ought to lose his 
head ! ” he exclaimed, vehemently. 

Count Piickler smiled mournfully. “ Alas ! ” 
he said, “ your majesty would have to sign many 
death-warrants if you punish in these days of 
terror all who are wavering because their faith 
and hopes are gone. Possibly, only an admonish- 
ing, soul-stirring word may be required to invigo- 
rate the timid, and to encourage the doubtful. 
Sire, utter such a word ! Send me back with it 
to Silesia ! Order the governor to accept the prop- 
ositions which I had the honor to lay before your 
majesty, and which I have taken the liberty to 
write down in this paper, and instruct him, in ac- 
cordance with them, to garrison the fortresses 
with fresh defenders. Oh, your majesty, all Si- 
lesia is yearning for her king; she is longingly 
stretching out her hands toward you : permit her 
to fight for you ! ” 

“ You imagine, then, that Schweidnitz, and, 
above all, Breslau, in that case, would be able to 
hold out ? ” asked the king. 

“ I do not imagine it, I am convinced of it ! ” 
exclaimed the count. “ I pledge my life that it 
is so ; I say that Breslau, permitted to defend it- 
self, would be impregnable ; I am so well satis- 
fied of it that I swear to your majesty that I will 
die as a traitor if I should be mistaken. Sire, 
send me to Breslau — permit me to participate in 
the organization of the new levies, and to arouse 
the zeal and energy of the authorities, and I swear 
to your majesty the Silesian fortresses shall be 
saved ! ” 

“Well, then, I take you at your word,” said 
the king, nodding kindly to the count. “ I will 
send you to Breslau. Wait; I will immediately 
draw up the necessary orders.” The king went 
to his desk and hastily wrote a few lines. Count 
Puckler stood near him, and smilingly said to him- 
self, “ I will defend Breslau as Schill is defending 1 


85 

Colberg! Both of us, therefore, will fulfil tJie 
oath we have taken ! ” 

“ Read ! ” said the king, handing him the paper 
— “ read it aloud ! ” Count Puckler read : 

“ The enclosed proposition of Count Puckler to 
reenforce the garrisons of the Silesian fortresses 
deserves the most serious and speedy considera- 
tion. Hence, I order you to carry it out without 
delay, and to save no expense in doing so. The 
fortresses must be defended at any price, and to 
the last man, and I shall cause such commanders 
to be beheaded as fail to do their duty. 

“ Frederick William.” 

“ Are you satisfied ? ” asked the king, when the 
count had finished. 

“I thank your majesty in the name of Silesia,” 
said the count, solemnly. “ Breslau will not fall 
into the hands of the enemy. I pledge you my 
head that it will not. I now request your majesty 
to let me withdraw.” 

“ When do you intend to set out ? ” 

“ Thife very hour.” 

“But you told me you had arrived only an 
hour ago. You ought to take rest till to-mor- 
row.” 

“ Your majesty, every day of delay exposes your 
Silesia to greater dangers. Permit me, therefore, 
to set out at once.” 

“Well, do so, and may God be with you !” 

The king gazed after the count with a long, 
musing glance. “Oh,” he sighed, mournfully, 
“if he had been commander of Magdeburg, it 
would be mine still ! ” 

Count Puckler hastened back to Silesia with the , 
king’s written order. He visited all the fortresses 
and saw all the commanders. The king, to give 
more weight to the count’s mission, had instructed 
the provisional authorities and the chief execu- 
tive officers of the districts, in a special rescript, 
to gather the old soldiers at the headquarters of 
the recruiting stations; he had ordered all the 
commanders to confer personally with Count 
Puckler as to the best steps to be taken for the 
defence of the fortresses, by the addition of the 
new soldiers and riflemen to the regular garrisons. 

Count Puckler, therefoi’e, had accomplished his 
purpose ; he was able to assist his country and 
to avenge himself for the disastrous day of Jena. 
A proud courage animated his heart ; his eye was 
radiant with joy and confidence; his face was 
beaming with heroic energy. All who saw him 
were filled with his own courage ; all who heard 
him were carried away by his enthusiasm, and 
gladly swore to die rather than prove recreant to 
the sacred cause of the country. Every one in 
Breslau knew Count Puckler, and confided in him. 


86 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


Always active, joyous, and indefatigable, he was 
to be found wherever there was danger; he en- 
couraged the soldiers by standing at their side on 
tlie outworks, by toiling with them, and exposing 
himself to the balls which the enemy was hurling 
into the city. He maintained the enthusiasm of 
the citizens by patriotic speeches, so that they 
did not despair, but bore their sufferings patiently, 
and provided compassionately for the men stand- 
ing on the ramparts in the storm and cold, in the 
face of an uninterrupted artillery-fire. A gener- 
ous rivalry sprang up among the citizens and sol- 
diers : the former contributed all they had to pro- 
vide the troops with food and comforts of every 
description ; and the latter vowed in their grati- 
tude to fight as long as there was a drop of blood 
in their veins, and not suffer the inhabitants, in 
return for the privations they had undergone, and 
for the sacrifices they had made, to be surrendered 
to the tender mercies of the enemy. But this en- 
thusiasm at last cooled. Every one would have 
borne days of privation and sufiering courageously 
and joyously enough, but long weeks of anxiety 
and distress deadened the devotion of the be- 
sieged. 

“Every thing is going on satisfactorily,” said 
Count Piickler, on coming to the governor of the 
fortress. General Thile, on the morning of the 30th 
of December. “We shall hold out till the Prince 
von Pless, who has lately been appointed by the 
king governor-general of Silesia, arrives with his 
troops to succor us and to raise the siege of Bres- 
lau.” 

The governor shrugged his shoulders. “ There 
will be no succor for us, and every thing will turn 
out wrong,” he said. 

“ But the soldiers are faithful, and the citizens 
do not waver as yet.” 

The governor looked almost compassionately at 
the count. “You see none but the faithful, and 
hear none but the undaunted,” he said. “ I will 
show you the reverse of your bright medal ! ” He 
took a paper from his desk and beckoned the 
count to approach. “ Just look at this ; it is the 
morning report. Do you want to know how many 
soldiers deserted last night ? Over a hundred, and 
in order to put a stop to further des^tions, the 
countersign had to be changed three times.” 

“ The deserters are the perfidious, treacherous 
Poles ! ” exclaimed Piickler, angrily. 

“Yes, the Poles were the first to desert, and, 
unfortunately, more than half the garrison consists 
of Poles. They are the old soldiers who were or- 
ganized in accordance with your proposition, my 
dear count. They are yearning for home, and long 
U' obtain, in place of tlie scanty rations they re- 


ceive here, the fleshpots which the Emperor Na- 
poleon has promised to happy Poland.” 

“ But they need not starve here ; they are pro- 
vided with sufficient food,” exclaimed Piickler. 
“ Only yesterday I saw a subscription-paper circu- 
lating among the citizens for the purpose of raising 
money to furnish the men on duty on the ramparts 
with meat, whiskey, and hot beer.” 

“ How many had signed it ? ” 

“ More than a hundred, general.” 

“Well, I will show you another subscription- 
paper,” said the governor, taking it from his desk. 
“ A deputation of the citizens were here last night 
and presented this to me. It contains a request 
to give them, amidst so many sufferings, the hope" 
of speedy succor, lest they be driven to despair. 
Over two hundred signed this paper. I could not 
hold out any hopes, and had to dismiss them with- 
out any consolation whatever.” 

“ But succor will come,” exclaimed Piickler. 

“ It will not come,” said the governor, shrug- 
ging his shoulders. 

•At that moment the door opened, and an orderly 
entered. “ Lieutenant Schorlemmer, in command 
of the forces at the Schweidnitz Gate, sent me 
here,” he said. “ He instructed me to inform the 
governor that the firing of field and siege artillery 
was to be heard, and the village of Diirgoy was 
burning ! ” 

“ The enemy is manoeuvring, and, no doubt, set 
the village unintentionally on fire. Tell Lieutenant 
Schorlemmer that is my reply.” 

No sooner had the orderly withdrawn than the 
officer in command of the engineers entered the 
room. “ Your excellency,” he exclaimed, hastily, 
“I have just come from the Ohlau Gate. The 
enemy is hurrying with his field-pieces and many 
troops from the trenches toward the Schweidnitz 
road, and the firing that began an hour ago is 
gradually approaching the fortress.” 

“ The succoring troops are drawing near,” ex- 
claimed Count Piickler, joyfully. “ The Prince von 
Pless at the head of his regiments has attacked 
the enemy ! ” 

The governor cast an angry glance on the rash 
speaker. “ It is true you know all these things a 
great deal better than old, experienced soldiers,” 
he said ; “ you will permit me, however, to be 
guided by my own opinion. Now, I think that 
the enemy is only manoeuvring for the purpose of 
decoying 'the garrison from the city. We shall 
not be so foolish, however, as to be caught in 
such a manner. But I will go and satisfy myself 
about this matter. Come, Mr. Chief-Engineer, 
and accompany me to the Ohlau Gate. And you. 
Count Piickler, go to General Lindener to ascer- 


COUNT PtCKLER. 


87 


tain his opinion. He has good eyes and ears, and 
if he view the matter in the same light as I do, I 
shall be convinced that we are right.” 

Count Piickler hastened away, and while the 
governor, with the chief-engineer, was walking 
very leisurely to the Ohlau Gate, Piickler rushed 
into the house of General Lindener, determined to 
make the utmost efforts to induce the governor to 
order a sally of the garrison. But General Lin- 
dener had already left his palace and gone to the 
Taschen bastion for the purpose of making his 
observations. Count Piickler followed him ; he 
could make but slow headway, for the streets 
were densely crowded ; every one was inquiring 
why the enemy had suddenly ceased shelling the 
city. 

Count Piickler rushed forward toward the 
Taschen bastion, and the constantly increasing 
multitude followed him. General Lindener stood 
amidst the superior officers on the rampart of the 
Taschenberg. He was scanning the horizon with 
scrutinizing glances. The officers now looked at 
him in great suspense, and now at the open field 
extending in front of them. Count Piickler ap- 
proached, while the people, who had almost forci- 
bly obtained admission, advanced to the brink and 
surveyed the enemy’s position. The crowd, how- 
ever, did not consist of vagabond idlers, but of 
respectable citizens — merchants and mechanics — 
who wished for the consolation the governor had 
refused them — the hope of succor! Gradually 
their care-worn faces lighted up. They saw dis- 
tinctly that the enemy had left the trenches. 
Here and there they descried straggling French 
soldiers running in the direction of the fight in 
front of the fortress. They heard the booming of 
artillery and the rattling of musketry, and they 
beheld the shells exchanged between the opposing 
troops, exploding in the air. Keen eyes discov- 
ered Prussian cavalry in the neighborhood of the 
Jewish burial-ground, near the Schweidnitz sub- 
urb, and at this sight tremendous cheers burst 
from the- citizens. 

“ Succor has come ! ” they shouted. “ The 
Prince von Pless is coming to deliver us 1 ” 

All now looked to the general, expecting he 
would utter the decisive word, and order the gar- 
rison to make a sortie. But this order was not 
given. 

General Lindener turned with the utmost com- 
posure to his officers. “I have no doubt,” he 
said, “ that the enemy is merely manoeuvring for 
the purpose of drawing us out of the fortress. It 
is an ambush in which we should not allow our- 
selves to be caught.” 

“ Your excellency,” exclaimed Buckler, in dis- 


may, “ it is impossible that you can be in earnest. 
That is no manoeuvre ; it is a combat. The long- 
hoped-for succor has come at last, and we must 
profit by it 1 ” ' 

“Ah,” said the general, shrugging his shoul- 
ders, “ you think because his majesty permitted 
you to participate in organizing the defence of the 
city, and to confer with the commander in regard 
to it, you ought to advise everywhere and to de- 
cide every thing ! ” 

“ No ; I only think that the time for action has 
come,” exclaimed Count Piickler. “ Opinions and 
suppositions are out of the question here, for we 
can distinctly see what is going on in the front of 
Breslau. I beg the other officers to state whether 
they do not share my opinion — whether it is not a 
regular cannonade that we hear, and a real fight 
between hostile troops that we behold ? ” 

“ Yes,” said one of the officers, loudly and em- 
phatically — “yes, I am of the same opinion as 
Count P,uckler ; there is a combat going on ; the 
Prince von Pless is approaching in order to raise 
the siege.” 

“ That is my opinion too 1 ” exclaimed each of 
the officers, in succession ; “ the succoring troops 
have come ; the enemy has left the trenches in 
order to attack them.” 

“And as such is the case,” exclaimed Count 
Piickler, joyfully, “ we must make a sortie ; pru- 
dence not only justifies, but commands it.” 

“ Yes, we must do so ! ” exclaimed the officers. 
The citizens standing at some distance from them 
heard their words, and shouted joyously : “ A 
sortie, a sortie ! Succor has come ! Breslau is 
saved 1 ” 

General Lindener glanced angrily at the offi- 
cers. “Who dares advise the comnaanding gen- 
eral without being asked ? ” he said, sharply. 
“ None of you must meddle with these matters ; 
they concern myself alone, and I am possessed of 
sufficient judgment not to need any one’s advice, 
but to make my own decisions I ” With a last 
angry glance at Count Piickler,. he left the bas- 
tion to return to his palace. Governor Thile was 
awaiting him there, and the two ascended to the 
roof of the building to survey the environs. 

The fog, which had covered the whole land- 
scape until now, had risen a little, and even the 
dim eyes of the general and of the governor could 
not deny the truth any more. A combat was 
really going on. The smoke rising from the 
ground, and the flashes of powder from field- 
pieces, were distinctly to be seen. It was a fact ; 
succor was at hand ; a Prussian corps was ap- 
proaching the city. The two generals left the 
roof, arm-in-arm, in silence, absorbed in their re- 


88 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


flections, and descended to the ground-floor, where 
a luncheon had been served up for them. An 
hour later, they assembled the garrison, in order 
to make an attack, “ in case the enemy should be 
defeated ! ” 

But it seemed as if the enemy had not been de- 
feated. The firing in front gradually died away ; 
the sally did not take place, and in . the evening 
the French I’ecommenccd throwing red-hot shot 
into the city. 

“We have been betrayed,” murmured the citi- 
zens, as they despondingly returned to their 
homes. 

“ The general did not want to make a sortie — 
he had no intention to save Breslau,” groaned 
Count Piickler, when he was alone in his room. 
“ All is lost, all is in vain ! The wish of the 
timid sacrifices our honor and our lives ! Oh, 
my unhappy country, my beloved Prussia, thou 
wilt irretrievably perish, for thy own sons are 
betraying thee ! Thy independence and ancient 
glory are gone; conquered and chained, thou 
wilt prostrate thyself at the feet of the victor, 
and with scorn he will place his foot upon thy 
neck, and trample thy crown in the dust ! I shall 
not live to see that disgrace ! I will fulfil my 
oath, and, not being able to save my country, I 
must die with it ! But not yet ! I will wait pa- 
tiently, for there is a faint glimmer of hope left. 
The Prince von Pless may make another attempt 
to raise the siege, and the citizens and soldiers 
may compel General Lindener to order an attack, 
and not to surrender. That is my last hope.” 


CHAPTER XXI. 

THE patriot’s DEATH. 

Great excitement reigned in -the streets of 
Breslau on the following day. The people were 
standing in dense groups, and each of them was 
addressed by speakers, who recapitulated the suf- 
ferings that had already been undergone, and the 
agony in store for them if the city should persist 
in its resistance. 

“Who will dare to resist the Emperor Napo- 
leon and his army ? ” exclaimed one. “ We 
were audacious enough to do so, and what has 
become of us ! Our houses have been demol- 
ished — our money is gone — our sons, brothers, 
and fathers, have been crippled or killed ! When 
Napoleon once stretches out his hand toward a 
country, and says, ‘ I will have it ! ’ it is useless 
to resist him, for he always accomplishes what he 


intends. God or the devil has given him the 
power to do so ! ” 

“ Why torment ourselves by further efforts ? ” 
cried another. “ We shall have to submit. 
Heaven itself is against us. See the ice-crust on 
the Oder. This cold weather is a fresh ally of 
the French ! So soon as the Oder and the ditches 
are firmly frozen over, they will cross, and tako 
the city by assault. Of course, we shall be re- 
quired again to risk our lives in breaking the ice 
amid bullets and shells. The only question is, 
whether you will do so.” 

“No! no!” shouted the crowd. “We have 
suffered enough ! We will neither break the ice 
in the Oder, nor extinguish the numerous fires. 
Too many of our countrymen have fallen already ; 
it is time for us to think of saving the lives that 
remain ! ” 

“No!” cried a powerful voice — “no! it is 
time for you to think of saving your honor ! ” 

“ Count Piickler ! ” murmured the people, look- 
ing at the tall, imperious man, who had mounted 
the curb-stone at the corner of the market-place, 
and cast angry glances on the crowd. , 

“ Will you listen to me ? ” asked the count, 
almost imploringly. 

“ Yes, yes,” exclaimed a hundred voices, “ we 
will listen to you ! ” And all approached and en- 
circled him. 

“Now speak, count,” said one of the men, 
standing closest to him. “ We know that you are 
a good patriot, and a noble friend of the people. 
Tell us w'hat we ought to do. Tell us whether 
you think that there is hope for us ! ” 

“ There is,” replied Count Piickler. “ There is 
hope of succor.” 

“ Ah, succor will not come,” cried the people, 
scornfully, “ and though it should, the generals 
would act again as if they could not see any 
thing, keep the gates shut, and fail to make a 
sortie. Speak of other hopes that you think are 
still left to us, count ! ” 

“ Well, there is the hope that the weather will 
relax — that the Oder and the ditches will not 
freeze, and that the enemy, consequently, will be 
unable to cross them. By bombardment alone 
Breslau cannot be taken. Our fortifications will 
resist the enemy’s artillery a long while ; and, if 
you do not waver, but struggle on bravely, you 
may preserve to your king his most beloved prov- 
ince and one of his best fortresses. Think of the 
honor it would refiect on you if the whole world 
should say : ‘ The citizens of Breslau preserved to 
their king the great capital of Silesia ! During 
the days of danger and distress they hastened 
fearlessly to the ramparts, not only to carry food 


THE PATRIOT’S DEATH. 


89 


and refreshments to the defenders, but to trans- 
form themselves into soldiers, to man the guns, 
and hurl balls at the enemy ! ’ ” 

“ Yes, yes, we will do so ! That will be glori- 
ous ! ” shouted the men, and their eyes flashed, 
and they lifted up their arms as if they were 
grasping their swords. “ Yes, we will march out 
to the ramparts — we will become brave soldiers, 
and fight for our city and for our king ! ” 

“And you will lose your limbs,” cried a sneer- 
ing voice from the crowd ; “you will be crippled 
— die of hunger — ruin yourselves and your chil- 
dren ; and it will be in vain, after all ! You will 
be unable to save Breslau, for the odds are too 
great, and we ourselves have already been weak- 
ened too much.” 

“ Alas, he is right ! ” lamented the people, and 
those who were about to rush to the walls stood 
still, and their courage seemed to disappear. 

“No!” exclaimed Count Piickler, ardently — 
“ no, he is not right I It is not true ; but even if 
it were true that we are too weak to hold out, 
would it not be much more honorable to be buried 
under the ruins of the city, than to live in dis- 
grace and bow to a new master ? Think of the 
shame of Magdeburg ; remember that a cry of in- 
dignation was uttered by the whole of Prussia at 
the treachery and cowardice of that city ! Citi- 
zens of Breslau, do you want to be talked of in 
the same manner ? Do you desire to act so 
pusillanimously that your children one day will 
have to blush for their fathers ? Do you want to 
behave so ignomiuiously, that your wives and 
sweethearts will deride you and call you cow- 
ards ? ” 

“ No, no ! ” shouted the people. “ We will fight 
— fight for our honor and our king.” 

“ Clear the way 1 ” cried loud and imperious 
voices at that moment, and a procession of over 
a hxindred citizens marched up Ohlau Street ; it 
was headed by an old man with flowing silvery 
hair, who held a large folded paper in his hands. 

The crowd, that hitherto only had had eyes and 
ears for Count Piickler, now bent inquiring glances 
on the new-comers, and looked searchingly and 
wonderingly at the old man, whom every one 
knew to be one of the most venerable and respect- 
able citizens of Breslau. 

“ Where are you going, Mr. Ehrhardt ? ” asked 
many at the same time. “ What is the object of 
your procession ? What is the paper you hold in 
your hands ? ” 

Mr. Ehrhardt held it up. “ This paper,” he 
said, “ is a petition drawn up by the citizens who 
are following me. In it we depict the sufferings 
and privations we have undergone, and pray that 


a speedy end may be put to them. Matters can- 
not go on in this way any more ; the distress is 
too great ; we have borne all we can — we must 
think of ourselves for the sake of our wiv^ and 
children. We have done enough to save our 
honor ; self-preservation is also a duty. We have 
stated all this in our petitipn, and are about to 
take it to the city hall, in order to deposit it there 
by permission of the authorities, so that every one 
may sign it. This afternoon it will be presented 
to the governor. Hasten, then, to add your signa- 
tures, for the more the better. When the governor 
sees that the citizens are united, he will have to 
comply with our demands and enter into a capitu- 
lation. The enemy sent a flag of truce this morn- 
ing ; the bearer, I have been told, imposes very 
rigorous terms on the commander of the fortress. 
He threatens also that the city, if it do not sur- 
render to-day, will be bombarded with red-hot 
shot long enough to set fire to all the buildings. 
Come, rny friends, let us go. All good and sensi- 
ble citizens will sign this petition.” 

The procession moved on. Profound silence 
ensued. Count Piickler was still standing on the 
curb-stone and looking in breathless suspense at 
the people that, a moment ago, had surrounded 
him. He saw now that many left him and joined 
those marching to the city hall. 

“ Citizens of Breslau ! ” he cried, in great an- 
guish, pale with grief and horror — “ citizens of 
Breslau, think of your honor ; think of the many 
tears which the eyes of your noble queen have al- 
ready shed for Magdeburg ; remember that your 
king relies on you and on your love, and that his 
gratitude toward you will be boundless if you 
remain faithful now — faithful unto death ! Think 
of the great king who fought seven long years for 
you, and whose glory still reflects a golden lustre 
on the whole of Silesia. Do not join the timid 
and cowardly. Stand by me. Let us go to- 
gether to the city hall — let us demand the petition 
that we may tear it to atoms; then go to the 
governor and tell him that he must not capitulate, 
but resist till — ” 

“ Till we die of hunger 1 ” cried a harsh voice, 
and a tall, broad-shouldered man elbowed himself 
through the crowd and walked up to the count. 
‘JJlount Piickler,” he said, menacingly, “if you 
continue talking about resistance, and other non- 
sense of that kind, you are a miserable demagogue, 
and the assassin of those who believe your high- 
sounding words. — Listen to me, citizens of Bres- 
lau. I am secretary of the commission of pro- 
visions, and do you know whither I have been or- 
dered to go ? To the municipal authorities 1 I 
am taking to them a list of what is still on hand. 


90 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


There are in Breslau at the present time only 
twenty thousand pounds of meat, and the bakers 
and brewers have no fuel left. If we do not open 
our gates to the French, death by starvation will 
await us after to-morrow. Therefore, let all those 
who do not wish to die of hunger hasten to the 
city hall and sign the petition that will be de- 
posited there.” 

At this moment a strange, hissing noise re- 
sounded through the air ; a glowing- ball rushed 
along and penetrated the roof of a house, from 
which flames immediately burst forth. A second 
and a third followed and set fire to several houses 
on the market-place. 

‘‘ The bombai'dment is recommencing ! ” howled 
the multitude. “ They are firing red-hot shot 
again. Come, come to the city hall ! Let us sign , 
the petition.” They hastened off like game pur- 
sued by a hunter ; fear lent wings .to their feet, 
and anxiety rendered the w^eak strong, and en- 
abled the lame to walk. 

Count Piickler was left alone. For a moment 
he leaned pale and exhausted against the wall of 
the house ; large drops of perspiration covered his 
brow ; his cheeks were livid, his lips were quiver- 
ing, and he gazed at the city hall, the steps of 
which the crowd were ascending at that moment. 

“ They are going to sign my death-warrant,” he 
muttered, in a low voice. He descended from the 
curb-stone, and, drawing himself up to bis full 
height, walked slowly down the street. The bul- 
lets were wdiistling around him and dropping at 
his side. He quietly walked on. He reached the 
house in which he was sojourning, and ascended 
the stairs slowly and with dilated eyes, like a som- 
nambulist. He reached the first landing, and had 
turned already to the second staircase. All at 
once invisible influences seemed to stop his prog- 
ress ; his face commenced quivering, his eyes 
sparkled, and turned with an expression of unut- 
terable grief to the door which he was about to 
pass. “I must see her once moi’e,” he muttered ; 
“ possibly she may follow me.” He pulled the 
bell vehemently, and a footman opened the door. 
“ Is my betrothed at home ? ” 

“Yes, count; the young countess is in her 
room ; her parents are in the parlor. Shall I an- 
nounce you ? ” 

“ No, I will go to her without being announced.” 
Passing the footman and hastening down the cor- 
ridor, he rapped at the last door. Without wait- 
ing, he opened it and entered. 

A joyful cry was heard — a young lady as 
lovely as a rose ran toward him with open arms. 
“Have you come at last, dearest? Have you 
really been restored to me ? Oh, how I have 


been longing for you all the morning — ^how my 
heart trembled for you ! With what an agony of 
fear every ball passing over our house filled me, for 
any one of them might have struck you ! But 
now I have you back. I shall detain you here, 
and not let you go any more. You shall be like 
a caged bird. Would that my heart were the 
cage in which I could keep you ! ” She laid her 
head, smiling and blushing, on his breast while 
uttering these words ; in the ardor of her own joy 
she had not noticed how pale, listless, and sad he 
was. When she raised her bright eyes to him, 
her smile vanished. “What ails you, my be- 
loved ? ” she asked, anxiously. “ What is the 
calamity that I see written on your face ? ” 

He took her head between his hands and looked 
long and mournfully at her. “ Camilla,” he said, 
in a low, husky voice — “ Camilla, will you die with 
me ? ” 

“ Die ! ” she asked aghast, disengaging her head 
from his hands. “ Why should we die, Fred- 
erick ? ” 

“Because I do not wish to live without honor,” 
he exclaimed, with sudden vehemence. “Because 
our misfortunes are so terrible that we must escape 
from them into the grave. All is lost ! Breslau 
will fall, and we shall be obliged to prostrate our- 
selves at the conqueror’s feet ! But I will not, 
cannot survive the disgrace of Prussia. ‘ Victory 
or death ! ’ was the motto which I once exchanged 
with Schill. I swore to him to live and die with 
my country ; I swore to the king, if Breslau fell, 
that I would die the death of a traitor. Breslau 
falls ; therefore I die ! ” 

“ No, no,” exclaimed Camilla, clinging firmly to 
him, “ you shall not die — you must not die ! You 
are mine ; you belong to me, and I love you ! 
Hitherto you have lived for your honor as a man 
— now live for your heart and its love ! Listen to 
me, Frederick ! How often have you implored 
me to accelerate the day of our wedding, and I 
always refused ! Well, I beseech you to-day, give 
me your hand ! Let us go together to my pa- 
rents, and ask them to send for a priest, and let our 
marriage take place to-day. And then, dearest, 
when the gates of Breslau open to the enemy, we 
can find a refuge at your splendid estate. The 
horrible turmoil of war and the clashing of arms 
will not follow us thither. There, amidst the 
charms of peaceful nature, let us commence a new 
life; with hearts fondly united, we shall belong 
only to ourselves, and, forgetful of the outside 
world, devote ourselves to our friends — to art and 
literature. Oh, my beloved, is it not a blissful 
future that is inviting you and promising you un- 
disturbed happiness ? ” She laid her arras, from 


THE PATRIOT’S DEATH. 


91 


■wliich the white lace sleeves had fallen back, 
on his shoulders, and held her glowing face so 
close to his own that her breath fanned his cheek ; 
her ruby lips almost touched his own, and her 
dark eyes were fixed on him with an expression 
of unutterable tenderness. 

The count pushed her back almost rudely. 
“ The happiness you are depicting to me is only 
given to the innocent, to the pure, and to those 
who have no desires,” he said, gloomily ; “ it is 
the happiness of gentle doves, not of men. And 
I am a man ! As a man of honor I have lived, and 
as such I will die. My life harmonizes no more 
with yours. Will you go with me, Camilla, into the 
land of eternal honor and liberty ? Does not this 
world of treachery and cowardice fill you with dis- 
gust as it does myself? Does not your soul shrink 
with dismay at the infamy we behold everywhere 
at the present time ? Oh, I know your heart is 
noble and pure, and despises the baseness which 
is now the master of the world. Let us, therefore, 
escape from it. Come, dearest, come ! I have 
two pistols at my rooms. They are loaded, and 
will not fail us. A pressure of my finger — and we 
are free ! Say one word, and I will bring them — ^ 
say, my Camilla, that you will die with me ! ” 

“ I say that I will live with you ! ” she cried, in 
terror. 

“ Then you will not die with me ? ” he asked, 
harshly. 

“No, Frederick, why should I die? I am so 
young, and love life; it has given me nothing 
but joy — it has given you to me — you, whom I 
love, for whom I will live, whom I will render 
happy ! What do I care for the misfortunes of 
Prussia — what do I care whether Breslau surren- 
ders to the enemy or not, while I am free to follow 
you — free to devote myself entirely to my love ! ” 

“ A woman’s heart ! — a woman’s love ! ” said 
Piickler, with a contemptuous shrug of his shoul- 
ders. “ I wish I resembled you ; we then might 
be like cooing doves in the myrtle-tree. But 
my heart is rather that of an eagle — longing for 
the sun ; and as he has set on earth, I shall fly 
after him. Farewell, Camilla, farewell ! Forget 
me not, and be happy ! ” He imprinted a hasty, 
glowing kiss on her lips, and then turned toward 
the door. 

Camilla rushed after him, and, clinging to him 
with both her hands, exclaimed : “ Frederick, 
what are you going to do ? ” 

“ I go to the land of liberty, and will do what 
honor commands,” he said, disengaging himself 
from her grasp, and rushing from the room. 

“Frederick! Frederick!” she cried, in the ut- 
most terror, running to the door; she could not 


open it, for he had locked it outside. “I must 
follow and save him,” she exclaimed, and gliding 
across the room, she opened a small secret door in 
the opposite wall ; scarcely touching the floor, she 
passed through the parlor, without taking any 
notice of her parents, who were sitting on the 
divan, and asked her in surprise for the cause of 
her hurry and agitation. She did not see that 
they were following her ; nor did she hear them 
call her. Onward, onward she went through the 
room to the corridor, into the hall, and up the 
staircase. She rushed to the upper floor, and 
rang the bell violently, when the footman of 
Count Piickler opened the door, and stared sur- 
prised at the young countess. She passed him 
impetuously, and ran down the corridor leading 
into the sitting-room of her betrothed. But it 
was locked. Uttering a cry of despair, she sank 
breathless on her knees, and laid her burning 
forehead against the door. 

The old count, with his wife, followed by Count 
Piickler’s footman, now approached. “ My child, 
my child ! ” murmured the old countess, bending 
over her daughter, “ what has happened ? Why 
are you so pale ? Why do you weep ? ” 

Camilla looked up to her with streaming eyes. 
“ Mother,” she exclaimed, in a heart-rending 
voice, “ mother, he will kill himself ! ” 

“ Who ? ” asked her father, aghast. 

“ My betrothed,” she gasped faintly. “ With a 
more generous and scrupulous regard for his 
honor than we are manifesting for ours, he will 
not survive the disgrace of his country. As Bres- 
lau is doomed, he will die ! As I did not care 
to die with him, he angrily repulsed me, and 
went up to his room to die alone. Oh, mother, 
father, have mercy on my anguish ! Help me to 
save him ! ” 

“ Is the count really here ? ” said Camilla’s 
father to the footman. “ Is he in this room ? ” 

“ Yes, gracious count, my master came home a 
few minutes ago. Without saying a word, he 
went to his room, and locked himself up.” 

The old count stepped to the door, and, grasp- 
ing the knob, shook it violently. “ Count Piickler, 
open the door,” he cried aloud. “Your father- 
in-law and the mother of your betrothed are 
standing at your door, and ask to be admitted ! ” 
“ Frederick ! Frederick ! ” begged Camilla, “ I 
am on my knees in front of your door-sill, and 
implore you to have mercy — to have compassion 
on me ! Oh, do not close your heart against me 
— oh, let me come in, my dear friend ! ” She 
paused and listened, hoping to hear a word or 
a movement inside. But every thing remained 
silent. 


92 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


“ If you refuse to listen to our supplications, 
we shall enter by force,” exclaimed the count. 

“ My son,” wailed the old countess, “ if you 
will not listen to us, at least have mercy on my 
daughter, for she will die of grief if you desert 
her.” 

“ My Frederick, I love you so tenderly — do not 
repel me ! ” wailed Camilla. 

All was silent. “ I must use force,” said the 
count, concealing his anguish under the guise of 
anger. “Hasten to a locksmith,” he added, 
turning to the footman ; “ he is to come here at 
once, and bring his tools with him. Notify also 
the ofiQcers at the neighboring police-station.” 
The footm.an withdrew. 

“ My beloved,” cried Camilla, wringing her 
hands, and her face bathed in a flood of tears, 
“ my Frederick, I love you better than my life ! 
Your wish shall be complied with. Open your 
door, and admit me. If I cannot live I will die 
with you ! Qh, do not remain silent — give me a 
sign that you are still living — tell me at least that 
you forgive me — that — ” 

She paused, for a song suddenly resounded in 
the room ; it was not a song of sorrow, but of 
wrath and manly courage. The words were as 
follows : 

“ Tod du susscr, fur das Yaterlandl 
Siisser als der Brautgruss, als das Lallen 
Auf dem Mntterschooss des ersten Kindes, 

Sei mir willkommen ! 

TVas das Lied nicht loset, lost das Scliwert, 
Blinkend Heil, umgiirte meine Huften, 

Von der Schande kannst duTapfre retten, 

Zierde der Tapfern I 

The voice died away. Camilla was on her knees, 
with clasped hands ; her parents stood behind 
her in devout silence. Suddenly noisy footsteps 
drew near. At the entrance of the corridor ap- 
peared the footman with the locksmith, who came 
with his tools to open the door. The old count 
made a sign to him to stand aloof. He had heard 
a movement in the room, and he hoped Camilla’s 
lover would voluntarily admit them. 

A pause ensued — then a terrible report was 
heard in the room. Camilla uttered a loud shriek, 
and sank senseless to the floor. 

An hour later, the locksmith succeeded in 
opening the door, which had been strongly bolted 
inside. Count Piickler sat in the easy-chair in 
front of his desk, immovable, with his face calm 
and uninjured, the pistol still in his hand. He 
had aimed well. The bullet had pierced his 
heart. On the desk in front of him lay a sheet 
of paper, containing the following words : 


“ Last greeting to Ferdinand von Schill, who 
took an oath with me that we wmuld live and die 
as faithful sons of our country ! Our country is 
sinking ignominiously into the dust ; I will not, 
cannot survive the disgrace, and, therefore, I 
die. Farewell, you who took that oath with me — 
farewell Schill and Staps ! I hope you will be hap- 
pier than myself! I am the first of us three who 
dies because he despairs of his country. Will 
you survive me long ? May God give you strength 
to do so I Farewell until we meet again ! 

“ Frederick ton Puckler.” 

On the following day the governor of Breslau 
commenced negotiations with the enemy, and on 
the Vth of January, 1807, Breslau opened its gates 
to the French troops, and the Prussian garrison 
laid down its arms. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

PEACE NEGOTIATIONS. 

General ton Zastrow, Avho had temporarily 
taken charge of the Prussian department of for- 
eign affairs, was pacing his room. His whole ap- 
pearance was indicative of care and anxiety. 
Whenever he passed the door leading into the 
anteroom, he stood still and listened, and then, 
heaving a sigh and muttering angry w'ords, con- 
tinued his walk. But at length it seemed as if 
his expectations were to be fulfilled ; he heard 
approaching steps. The door opened, and the 
footman announced General von Kbckeritz. 

General von Zastrow quickly went to meet his 
visitor, and offered him both his hands. “ I thank 
your excellency from the bottom of my heart for 
having yielded to my urgent supplications,” he said, 
passionately, “ and at the same time I beg your 
pardon for having been so bold as to request you 
to call upon me. But as you reside in the same 
house as their majesties, and as the king comes 
to see you frequently and unexpectedly, I believe 
we can converse here more freely and without fear 
of being disturbed.” 

“You are right, my dear general,” said Kock- 
eritz ; “ it is better for us to hold our little con- 
ferences at your house. My room, moreover, has 
walls so thin that every word spoken there can be 
heard outside. Alas, it is on the whole a mis- 
erable barrack in which the royal couple and my- 
self are obliged to stay here in Memel! Low, 
dark rooms — no elegance, no accommodations, no 
comfort. Every thing is as narrow, gloomy, and 
smoky as possible, and then this fearfully cold 
weather ! Yesterday, during the heavy storm, an 


♦ See p. 9. 


PEACE NEGOTIATIONS. 


93 


inch of snow lay on the window-sill in the queen’s 
room, and, I assure you, it did not melt 1 Never- 
theless, her majesty is perfectly calm and com- 
posed ; she never complains, never utters any dis- 
satisfaction, but always tries to prove to the king 
that she likes Memel very well, and that it is as 
beautiful a capital as Berlin.” 

“ Ah, my respected friend,” said General von 
Zastrow, mournfully, “ this composure of the 
queen is very injurious to us. If she were more 
melancholy — if she bewailed her misfortunes more 
bitterly — if she manifested a more poignant sor- 
row, we should not be doomed to sit here on the 
extreme frontier of Prussia, but might hope to 
make our triumphal entry into Berlin, perhaps, in 
two weeks.” 

“ Into Berlin ? ” asked General von Kbckeritz, 
greatly surprised. “Why,yoUare talking of a 
miracle which I am unable to comprehend.” 

“ Oh, your excellency will understand it soon 
enough,” replied General von Zastrow, smiling, 
“ if you will only be so kind as to listen to me a 
little.” 

“ I assure you, my friend, I am most anxious to 
hear your explanations ; I am burning with the 
desire to know how we are to bring it about to 
leave this accursed, cold Memel, and return to Ber- 
lin within so short a time.” 

“ Well, what is the cause of our sojourn here ? ” 
asked General von Zastrow. “ What has driven us 
hither ? What has deprived the king, our august 
master, of his states, of his happiness — nay, al- 
most of his crown ? What is the cause that our 
beautiful and amiable queen has to undergo all 
sorts of privations and inconveniences, and is 
compelled to reside, instead of in her palace at 
Berlin, in a miserable, leaky house in Memel, 
where she is closer to the Bashkirs than to civil- 
ized people ? The war is the cause of all this ! ” 

“ Yes, if my advice had been followed, these 
calamities would never have befallen us,” replied 
General von Kockeritz, sighing ; “ we would have 
remained on terms of friendship and peace with 
the great man whom Heaven has sent to subjugate 
the world, and resistance against whom is almost 
equivalent to blasphemy. lie frequently and 
magnanimously offered us his friendship, but at 
that time more attention was paid to the vain 
boastings of the lieutenants of the guard ; and the 
rhodomontades of Prince Louis Ferdinand unfor- 
tunately found an echo in the heart of the queen. 
The advice of older and more prudent officers was 
disregarded, and the king, in spite of himself, was 
dragged into this war, which we have had to ex- 
piate by the defeats of Jena and Auerstadt, and 
by the loss of so many fortresses and provinces. 


And who knows what may be in store for us yet ? 
Who knows what mischief may yet threaten the 
crown and life of Frederick William ! ” 

“Well,” said General von Zastrow, with a sar- 
castic smile, “ it looks as though the fortune of 
war_ were now turning in favor of the Kussians. 
Think of the great victories which the Russian 
General Benningsen has already won. Did not 
twenty-four trumpeting postilions proclaim to us at 
Konigsberg, on new-years-day, the Russian vic- 
tory of Pul tusk? ” 

“Yes, but those twenty-four postilions and that 
emphatic announcement were the most brilliant 
parts of the victory,” said General von Kockeritz, 
shrugging his shoulders. “ Benningsen was not 
defeated by Napoleon at Pultusk, but honorably 
maintained his position on the battle-field — that 
is what the whole amounted to.” 

“ Yes, but we are celebrating again a great and 
brilliant triumph. On the 7th and 8 th of February 
the Russian General Benningsen and our General 
Lestocq claim to have obtained another advantage 
over Napoleon and his marshals. I suppose you 
are aware that Benningsen himself has arrived 
here in order to communicate the news of the vic- 
tory of Eylau to the royal couple ? ” 

“Yes, I know,” said Kockeritz. “But I know 
also what this new success reall}'’ amounts to. 
The Russians are very liberal in issuing victorious 
bulletins, and if they have not been massacred in 
a battle to a man, the last ten survivors shout in- 
variably, ‘Victory! We have won the battle!’ 
That of Eylau is even more problematic than that 
of Pultusk. Pray tell me, who held the battle- 
field of Eylau ? ” 

“ Napoleon with his French, of course.” 

“ And who retreated from Eylau toward Ko- 
nigsberg ? ” 

“ General Benningsen with his Russians.” ' 

“ And these Russians, nevertheless, are auda- 
cious enough to claim a victory ! ” exclaimed 
General von Kockeritz. “ These fellows regard 
it such when Napoleoo, instead of pressing them 
on Iheir retreat, remains where he is, and gives 
them time to escape.” 

“ They are in ecstasies, because they infer from 
this delay of Napoleon, and from his unwonted 
inactivity, that he also stands in need of repose 
and recreation,” said General von Zastrow. “ The 
severe winter, bad quarters, hunger, and thirst, 
have greatly exhausted the strength of the grand 
army, and the lion would like to rest a little. 
For this reason — and now I come to the point 
concerning which I requested your excellency to 
call on me — for this reason, the great Napo- 
leon desires to make peace. The conqueror of 


94 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


Jena himself olFers it to the vanquished King of 
Prussia.” 

“ What ? Do you really think that to be true ? ” 
asked General von Kockeritz. 

“ I do not only think, but know it to be true,” 
said Zastrow. “ General Bertrand arrived here 
an hour ago, and called on me with the request to 
present him to the king, that he might deliver 
him an autograph letter from the Emperor Napo- 
leon. I told the general that I should return bis 
visit in half an hour, and then conduct him to his 
majesty. I wished to profit by this half hour, 
my dear friend, to confer with you about this 
matter.” 

“ And did General Bertrand inform you that 
Napoleon would offer peace to our king ? ” 

“Yes, your excellency. He communicated to 
me the contents of the imperial letter. The lion 
of Jena magnanimously offers once more to make 
peace.” 

“We must strain every nerve to induce the 
king to accept these overtures,” exclaimed Kock- 
eritz, quickly. 

“Your excellency is the only man sufficiently 
powerful to induce the king to come to such a 
decision,” said Zastrow. “You must be so kind 
as to prove to him that to continue the war with 
France is to bring about the ruin of Prussia. If 
he does not accept the offer of Napoleon, he is 
ruined, for the emperor would not forgive such 
obstinate hostility; and, if Prussia will not live 
with him on terms of friendship, he will annihi- 
late her in order to be done with her.” 

“ I shall not threaten the king by laying too 
much stress on the strength of his enemy,” said 
Kockeritz, “ for that would wound the pride of his 
majesty, and provoke his sense of honor to re- 
newed resistance. But I shall call his attention 
to the weakness and fickleness of Russia, inform- 
ing him that our friends, the Russians, are beha- 
ving in the most shameful manner in those parts 
of Prussia which they are occupying, and com- 
mitting BO many outrages that the inhabitants are 
praying on their knees to God to grant victory to 
the French, so that they might deliver them from 
the Russians. I shall tell him that the distress 
and the extortions the Prussian farmers have to 
suffer at the hands of our^ allies are perfectly in- 
credible ; that the peasants in the villages have 
been stripped of every thing, to such an extent 
that they beg the Cossacks, who have robbed 
them of their provisions, for their daily bread ; 
that many of them are dying of hunger, and that 
unburied corpses have been found in the houses 
of several villages now occupied by our troops. 
And, above all, I shall beseech his majesty to re- 


pose no confidence in the Russian friendship ! 
Whatever the czar may say about his fidelity, he 
has not the power of carrying his point, and all 
his resolutions will be frustrated by the resist- 
ance of his generals and of his brother. The 
Grand-Duke Constantine and the larger and more 
powerful part of the Russian nobility are anxious 
for peace ; and Constantine, whose views are 
, shared by Benningsen, will leave no intrigues, no 
cabals untried in order to gain the czar over to 
his opinion, and plunge him into difficulties from 
which he will finally be able to extricate himself 
only by making peace — a peace concluded at the 
expense of Prussia. Russia and France will be 
reconciled over the corpse of Prussia ! Even 
now it is distinctly to be seen what we have to 
expect from the czar’s assistance. Our allies are 
doing nothing really to help us, but whatever 
steps they are taking are exclusively for their 
own safety. It is true, they advanced at first, 
but only in order to prevent the French from ap- 
proaching their frontier. Since that time, how- 
ever, in spite of the battle of Pultusk, the Rus- 
sians have steadily retreated, although the enemy 
did not compel them to do so. They accom- 
plished thus their own purpose, that is, to devas- 
tate a province of Prussia, and protect them- 
selves by this desert from a French invasion.” 

“ It is true,” said General von Zastrow, “ our 
friends are ruining us by a mere semblance of aid. 
If they really were honest and faithful allies, 
would they not strain every nerve to preserve 
Dantzic to us ? General Benningsen did promise 
to succor the fortress and raise the siege, if 
Dantzic held out only two months longer. But 
what is he doing to redeem his promise ? Abso- 
lutely nothing! We reproached him with his 
inactivity, and he excused it by asserting that the 
army would first have to be reenforced. He ad- 
mits that the fall of that seaport would be a great 
disaster, but refuses to do any thing decisive for 
its safety. Therefore, if we do not give up the 
equivocal friendship of the Russians — if we do 
not now make peace with France, Dantzic will be 
lost, and Colberg and Graudenz will likewise fall, 
in spite of the efforts of their heroic defenders, 
Schill and Colomb. Oh, I beg you induce the king 
to accept the peace if the terms offered to him be 
not utterly inadmissible. These Russians will 
never deliver us. Suppose even another general 
than Benningsen, and better disposed than he, 
should advance after his so-called victories in the 
same manner as Benningsen is retreating now, he 
would restore to us no state, only a desert. The 
king ought to believe us that they are utterly un- 
willing to render us assistance, and that they only 


THE SLANDEROUS ARTICLES. 


intend devastating our country in order to protect 
themselves. Whatever the noble and generous 
Emperor Alexander may order, it is certain that 
nothing will be done. Even though we should 
protest and clamor against it in the most heart- 
rending manner, we should be unable to bring 
about a change.” 

“ But should we succeed in convincing the 
king,” said General von Kockeritz, “how are we 
to persuade the queen ? Her heart, otherwise so 
gentle and generous, is filled with hatred against 
Napoleon, and she believes in the friendship of 
the Russian emperor.” 

“Will you take it upon yourself, your excel- 
lency, to persuade the king to make peace with 
France ? ” 

“ I believe I shall be able to do it,” said Gen- 
eral von Kockeritz, after a brief reflection. 

“ Well, for my part, I undertake to persuade the 
queen to acquiesce, at least in silence, and not 
advocate so warmly the alliance with Russia.” 

“ I should like to know by what charm you in- 
tend to accomplish such a miracle.” 

“By a very simple one, your excellency. I 
shall cause my niece, the Countess von Truchsess, 
who is not merely lady of honor, but also reader 
to the queen, to read to her majesty the last num- 
bers of the Berlin Telegraphy which I have just 
received. This seems like a riddle, but it is not. 
That journal contains charges against the queen, 
whiclj, it appears to me, render it impossible for 
her to declare so loudly and publicly in favor of 
a continued alliance with the Russian emperor. 
Her majesty, therefore, must be informed of the 
contents of those articles ; she must know in what 
sense public opinion — or, if you prefer, the wicked 
world — is interpreting her enthusiasm for the 
Russian alliance. She must learn it this very 
hour, that, at this momentous crisis, she may not 
try to stem the tide of events. We must tie her 
hands in order to prevent her from destroying the 
work we are taking so much pains to accomplish. 
While your excellency goes to the king in order to 
take his heart by storm with your convincing 
eloquence, and I am afterward conducting Gen- 
eral Bertrand to his majesty (to whom he will 
present the paeific overtures and the autograph 
letter from Napoleon), my niece, the Countess von 
Truchsess, will read to the queen the articles pub- 
lished in the Telegraph, and if the king should 
really hesitate, and desire to hear the opinion of 
his wife, she, in her just indignation, will assuredly 
not advocate his cause for whose sake she has to 
bear the slanders of the public press.” 

“ Heaven grant that you may be a true prophet, 
general ! ” said Kockeritz, heaving a sigh. “ The 


, 95 

queen, however, is so magnanimous that she 
might even overlook her personal wrongs, and 
the slanders heaped on her, if she thought the 
welfare of the country was at stake. I believe 
she esteems the honor of Prussia even higher than 
her own, and in case she should believe the for- 
mer to be endangered, would be willing to sacri- 
fice herself.” 

“ I believe your excellency is mistaken, so far 
as that is concerned,” said General von Zastrow, 
smiling. “ The wife of Frederick William, aside 
from being a high-minded queen, is a woman who 
has the utmost regard for her reputation and vir- 
tue, and who, for the sake of her husband and 
children, would not suffer a breath of suspicion 
upon her honor. Well, we shall see whether you 
are right or not. It is high time for us to go to 
work. As you have promised me your assistance, 
I am quite hopeful, and believe we shall succeed 
in restoring peace to poor tormented Prussia. 
Go, then, your excellency, to perform your part ; 
I will go to the Countess von Truchsess, to bring 
her the newspapers, and then it will be high time 
to conduct General Bertrand to the king. Well, 
Heaven bless us all, and cause Prussia to make 
peace at last with the Corsican lion ! ” 

» ' • 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE SLANDEROUS ARTICLES. 

Queen Louisa was in her cabinet, engaged in 
reading the letters and journals brought by the 
courier, who had just arrived from Berlin. She 
glanced hastily over the papers, and then turned 
to the letters that lay unopened befoi’e her. On 
the other side of the small table, standing in front 
of the divan, sat the young Countess von Truchsess, 
who was occupied in arranging the journals. The 
queen meantime was reading her letters ; during 
the perusal her features lighted up more and 
more, and a delicate blush mantled her pale 
cheeks. 

Louisa had but just recovered from a severe 
and dangerous illness, which had attacked her 
soon after her arrival at Konigsberg. The suffer- 
ing which her courageous soul was enduring with 
so much constancy and heroism had undermined 
her body; weaker than her mind, it had suc- 
cumbed to the burden of her grief. A nervous 
fever had confined her to her bed for weeks ; it 
had afforded her at least some consolation by ren- 
dering her unconscious of misfortune, and causing 
her, in her delirious moments, to live again through 


96 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


the joyful days of the past. While she was 
dreaming and believing herself happy in the 
splendors of a former life, real and fearful disasters 
had befallen her cause. She had not learned that 
the French were approaching nearer to Konigs- 
berg, and that the unfortunate royal family were 
no longer safe there. She had not been conscious 
in her fever that she had been lifted from her 
couch into the travelling-coach, to be conveyed to 
Memel — that her carriage had been transformed 
into a sick-bed, and that she had lain on the 
cushions with burning cheeks, singing sweet lulla- 
bies, and rejoicing in her fancied happiness. 

But at length her fever subsided, and conscious- 
ness returned. All the mournlul news which 
during her illness had been concealed from her, 
overwhelmed her as soon as she recovered, and 
for this reason her health had improved but very 
slowly. At this hour, as we have said, the blush 
had returned to her cheeks, and her eyes were 
beaming again wuth the fire of former days. The 
letters gave a glimmer of hope to her soul. They 
told her of the brave defenders of the fortresses 
that had not surrendered, and of heroic Ferdinand 
von Schill, who, with his sohdiers, was doing so 
much injury to the enemy, and who had succeeded 
in capturing one of the commanding generals of 
the besieging army. Marshal Victor. They told 
her of Graudenz, the commander of which had 
swoim tb be buried under the ruins of that fortress 
rather than open its gates to the enemy ; they 
told her also of Dantzic, which was still coura- 
geously holding out and hoping for the succor the 
Russians had promised. And these letters con- 
tained still other hopeful news : that Berlin, which, 
according to former statements, was said to have 
already submitted to Napoleon, was bowing very 
reluctantly to the behests of the autocrat, and 
still waiting for the hour of deliverance. 

“ Oh, I knew well enough,” said the queen, lay- 
ing aside the last of her letters, “I knew well 
enough that the inhabitants of Berlin are affec- 
tionately devoted to us. I never doubted their 
constancy, and how should I ? Those whom you 
meet with a heart full of love are compelled, as it 
were, to return your love. The king and I always 
loved Berlin, and always counted on its fealty. I 
am glad, therefore, to hear that our hopes will be 
fulfilled one day ! It is still a dark, stormy night, 
but daylight will come — the rising sun will dispel 
the storm and scatter the darkness. You shake 
your head. Countess Truchsess ? You do not be- 
lieve In my prophecies ? ” 

“ I do not believe in the fidelity of the inhabit- 
ants of Berlin, your majesty,” sighed the coun- 
tess, “ they are a frivolous, fickle people, who re 


vile those to-day whom they admired but yester- 
day.” 

“ Oh ! ” exclaimed the queen, sinking back upon 
the sofa, “ the throbbing of my heart tells me 
that you have to communicate bad news ! What 
is it ? ” 

“ No, most gracious queen, command me rather 
to be silent,” said the lady of honor, imploringly. 
“ Your majesty looks so pale that I am afraid any 
excitement would injure your weak nerves. You 
need repose and ought not to be irritated ; besides, 
what does your majesty care for the slanders of 
the populace ? Such arrows recoil from the pure.” 

“Ah,” said the queen, with a faint smile, “you 
are dealing with me as did Robert the hunter with 
the eount in Schiller’s ‘Walk to the Forge.’ You 
are stimulating my curiosity by mysterious words 
— you are talking about slanders, and yet you do 
not tell me what they are.” 

“ Only with the difference, your majesty, that 
Robert the hunter told falsehoods, which he him- 
self had invented, while I alluded only to those 
of others, and despise them from the bottom of 
my heart.” 

“ Then you mean to say that I have been slan- 
dered,” exclaimed the queen, in a low voice. “ Tell 
me, countess, what did your friends write to you ? 
What stories have been disseminated ? I desire 
to know ! ” 

“ Gracious queen, my friends did not write any 
thing on the subject. I saw only what, unfortu- 
nately, thousands have already seen.” 

“ What did you see ? ” said the queen, angrily. 
“ What do you refer to ? Do not speak any longer 
in riddles, if you please.” 

“ Your majesty, I have glanced at the pam- 
phlets and journals lying there, and request you 
not to insist to-day on my reading to you the arti- 
cles contained in them.” 

“ Ah, that is it ! ” exclaimed Louisa, laying both 
her hands on the periodicals which the countess 
seemingly wished to withhold from her. “ These 
contain the slanders. I must know Avhat they are. 
Read them to me, countess.” And the queen 
folded her arms with a resolute air. 

“Have mercy on me, your majesty! I am 
really afraid — my lips cannot easily recite those 
vile lines, and your majesty, besides, will be angry 
with me for complying.” 

“ No, no,” exclaimed the queen, impatiently, 
“I am not angry with you. You only did your 
duty in calling my attention to these things, and 
having taken upon yourself the task of being my 
reader, perform it now! What pamphlets are 
those sent to us ? ” 

“ Your majesty,” said the countess, in an enk 


THE SLANDEROUS ARTICLES. 


97 


barrassed tone of voice, “ there is, first, a pam- 
phlet entitled ‘ A True Account of the Interview 
of the Emperor Alexander with the King of Prus- 
sia at the Grave of Frederick the Great.’ ” 

“ Read it,” replied the queen, dryly, “ it is always 
good to listen to the true account of events in 
which we have taken part.” And without utter- 
ing a word — without even a frown, she listened to 
the comments on the scene at the grave of Fred- 
erick. They were malicious and scornful, repre- 
senting it as a farce. 

“ Well,” said the queen, when the countess had 
finished, “ if that is the worst, I feel at ease again. 
We must submit to abuse, and I sincerely pardon 
all those who expose me to the derision of the 
world by depicting me as a martial Joan of Arc. 
It has not been permitted me to live quietly in 
the shade of domestic happiness. A queen stands 
alone on a summit ; she is seen and watched by 
every one, and it is, therefore, but natural that she 
should be hated and abused more relentlessly than 
other women, particularly if she be unhappy. For 
sovereigns are never pardoned, although they are 
subject to human failings, and their misfortunes 
are always regarded as their own faults. Let the 
malicious, therefore, deride us as much as they 
please ; the good will only love and respect us the 
more. Proceed, countess ! What else did we 
receive ? ” 

“ Nothing, your majesty, but a few numbers of 
the Telegraphy 

“ Ah, read them,” exclaimed the queen. “ I 
know that journal will not slander me. Its editor. 
Professor Lange, is a patriot, and, for this reason, 
I had promised to lend him the portrait of the 
king which I am wearing in a locket, that he 
might give his readers a good likeness of their 
beloved monarch. The disastrous events of the 
war, and my departure from Berlin, prevented me 
from fulfilling my promise. But there will be 
better times for us, perhaps, and I shall then 
be able to reward all those who remain faithful 
to us.” 

“ And I hope your majesty will also be able to 
punish those who prove treacherous,” exclaimed 
the countess, vehemently. 

The queen shook her head. “ No,” she said, 
“ those who wrong me I will pardop, and those 
who are faithless I will leave to their own con- 
science. Now, countess, read to me the articles 
of the Telegraphy 

“ Does your majesty command me ? ” 

“ I do ! ” 

The countess took one of the sheets and read 
in a tremulous voice : “ ‘ A reliable account of the 
reasons why the queen compelled her husband, 

7 


in spite of his reluctance, to conclude an alliance 
with the Emperor of Russia, and why she herself 
entered into a love-affair with Alexander of 
Russia — ’ ” 

Louisa started, and a deathly pallor covered 
her face like a veil. 

“ Oh, my queen ! ” exclaimed the countess, im- 
ploringly, “ do not insist on my reading any fur- 
ther. I have not courage to do so.” 

“ If I have courage enough to listen, you must 
have courage enough to read,” said the queen, 
almost harshly. “ Read — I command you.” 

And the countess, in a low and tremulous voice, 
read the disgraceful charge preferred by that jour- 
nal, which accused the queen of loving the Em- 
peror Alexander in the most passionate manner. 
“Queen Louisa,” said the editor, “was in favor 
of the alliance with Russia, because her heart had 
concluded an alliance with the handsome emperor, 
and she met with her ‘ fine-looking ’ friend for the 
last tin?e in the presence of her husband at the 
grave of Frederick the Great. The alliance of 
their hearts was sealed there by a glowing kiss, 
which Alexander imprinted on the lips of Louisa.” 

The queen uttered a cry, and sprang up like an 
angry lioness. “ That is not true — that cannot 
be in the paper ! ” she cried, almost beside her- 
self. 

The lady of honor silently handed her the 
paper. Louisa seized it, but she trembled so 
violently that she was hardly able to decipher the 
characters. She at last read the slanderous arti- 
cle herself. Heart-rending groans escaped her, 
and a strange twitching and quivering distorted 
her features. “It is indeed true, I' have been 
wickedly reviled I ” she exclaimed, throwing the 
paper aside. “My enemies will rob me of the 
only thing remaining — ^my honor — my good name. 
They desire to expose me to the scorn of the 
world. Oh, this disgrace is more shocking than 
all my other sufferings. It will kill me ! ” She 
covered her face with her hands and wept piteous- 
ly. The tears trickled between her fingers, and 
fell on her black dress as if adorning it with dia- 
monds. 

The Countess von Truchsess was touched by the 
queen’s grief. She softly gathered up the other 
papers, and was about to leave the room, but the 
noise of her footsteps aroused Louisa from the 
stupor of her despair. She quickly dropped her 
hands from her face and dried her tears. “ Stay 
here,” she said ; “ read the remainder. I want 
to hear it all.” And as the lady of honor remon- 
strated against this order — as she implored the 
queen to spare herself, and to close her ears 
against such slanders, Louisa said, gravely and 


98 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


imperiously : “ I want to know it all ! Unknown 
terrors are even worse than those which we do 
know. Eead ! ” 

The countess, therefore, was obliged to read. 
The remaining numbers of the journal repeated 
the same charge. They stated, though in differ- 
ent words, that the queen alone was in favor of 
the alliance with Russia ; that the king would be 
quite willing to make peace with France, but that 
his wife would never permit it, because she was 
passionately enamoured of the emperor of Russia, 
and maintained a tender liaison with him. The 
queen listened as immovable and cold as a statue ; 
her whole vitality seemed suspended ; she then 
pressed her right hand firmly against her heart ; 
with her left she clung convulsively to the back 
of the sofa, on which she was sitting, as though 
she wished to prevent herself from falling. Her 
eyes stared wildly, as if strange and fearful vis- 
ions passed before them. Thus she sat, long 
after the countess had paused, an image of grief 
and horror. The lady of honor dared not inter- 
rupt her ; but clasping her hands, and weeping 
softly, she gazed at the queen, who, in her grief- 
stricken beauty, seemed to her a martyr. Noth- 
ing was heard but the monotonous ticking of the 
clock, and, at times, a low whistling of the cana- 
ry-bird, in its gilt cage at the window. 

But suddenly Louisa seemed to awake from her 
stupor ; a tremor pervaded her whole frame ; the 
flash of life and consciousness returned to her 
eyes. “ That is his work,” she muttered ; “ this 
attack comes from him — from my mortal enemy. 
It is Napoleon who has aimed this poisoned arrow 
at my heart, because he knew that nothing could 
hurt me and my husband more fatally than this 
dreadful calumny.” And uttering a loud cry of 
despair, and wringing her hands, she exclaimed : 
“ Oh, my God, what did I do, to deserve so ter- 
rible a disgrace ! What did my husband do that 
he should be thus exposed to the relentless malice 
of his foe ? Was not the measure of our wretch- 
edness full ? Could not that cruel man, who calls 
himself Emperor of the French, content himself 
with hurling us into the dust, and with robbing 
my husband of his states ? Is the honor of his 
wife also to be sacrificed ? ” 

A flood of tears burst from her eyes, and lifting 
up her arms to heaven, she cried : “ My God, why 
didst Thou desert me ! Have mercy on me, and 
send death to me, that I may conceal my reviled 
head in the grave ! I am accused of an ignomin- 
ious, sinful love, although I love no one on earth 
but my husband and my children ! And a Ger- 
man pen was bought to write that slander — Ger- 
man eyes did not shrink from reading it, and 


German men and women permitted it to be re- 
peated in this journal time and again ! They did 
not feel that they were disgraced and reviled in 
my person — that all Germany was calumniated ! 
For, in my grief, as well as in my love, I am the 
representative of Germany, and to insult me is to 
insult all German wives and mothers. Woe to 
you, Napoleon, for stooping to such an outrage ! 
I pardon your attempts to rob me of my crown, 
but so long as I breathe, I will not forgive your 
attacks upon my honor ! ” 

She rose slowly and proudly, and lifted her 
arms and eyes as if to utter a solemn impreca- 
tion. ^ “ Woe to you, Napoleon ! ” she cried, in a 
loud, ringing voice, “ woe to you that you did not 
respect the innocence of the wife, and had no 
mercy on the honor of a mother ! The tears 
which I am shedding at this hour will one day 
fall like burning coals on your heart, and for this 
torment I am now enduring I shall call you to 
account above ! You think you are master of 
the earth, and, like fate itself, can dispose of em- 
pires ; but you will be crushed at last — you will 
one day feel that you are only a weak creature — 
only dust, like all of us. You will yet sink down 
in your affliction, and cry for mercy. Let Aie 
live to see that day, my God : then my tears will 
be avenged ! ” 

She paused, her eyes still directed toward 
heaven, her whole appearance breathing a sub- 
lime enthusiasm. She looked like a prophetess 
with her beaming face and uplifted arms. But 
after a while her arms dropped, her eyes turned 
to earth again, and the inspired prophetess was 
once more transformed into the unhappy woman, 
who feared she would die beneath the burden of 
her grief. She burst again into tears, and re- 
peated again and again that terrible accusation, 
although every word of it struck her heart like a 
dagger. Gradually, however, the reviled woman, 
conscious of her innocence, became the proud and 
pure queen ! With quiet dignity she stretched out 
her hand toward the countess, who rushed to her, 
pressed her lips on the royal hand, and sobbing 
asked to be forgiven. 

“ I have nothing to forgive,” said Louisa, with 
a faint smile. “I know your intentions were 
good. Oh, believe me, during hours of great 
affliction the soul sees and comprehends many 
things that were hitherto concealed from it. Thus 
I understood m the outburst of my despair why 
all this had occurred, and why I had to undergo 
all these sufferings. Napoleon’s poisoned arrow 
might have fallen powerless at my feet, if your 
uncle had not instructed you to pick it up and 
make me feel it. Hush ! Do not utter a word 


THE^ JUSTIFICATION. 


99 


of apology ! Your uncle, General von Zastrow, 
is a patriot in his way, and intended to teach me 
by your intervention how to become a good pa- 
triot in his sense — that is to say, to hate Russia, 
and to turn away from this alliance, for the sake 
of which I have been insulted. It was policy that 
induced the Emperor Napoleon to invent these 
calumnies, and it was poHcy again that induced 
your uncle to have you communicate them to me. 
This is a consolation ; for, as it is, I am suiSfering 
only for the sake of my people, and you made me 
a martyr of the German cause. But I will bear 
all without complaining, however painful it may 
be ; I do not wish it to cease if the welfare and 
happiness of Prussia should be delayed thereby 
but a single hour. I shall not ask the king to 
break off the alliance with Russia. Queen Louisa 
yesterday believed an alliance with Russia to be 
necessary .and advantageous to the welfare and 
honor of Prussia ; she will not change her mind 
to-day because Louisa, the woman, is charged 
with a dishonorable love for the Emperor of Rus- 
sia. The woman may die of this calumny, but 
dying she will still be a queen, and say, ‘ I die 
for my country, and for my people ! May my 
death be advantageous to Prussia ! ’ Go to your 
uncle, countess, and tell him so ! And now give 
me the numbers of the journal, and the pamphlet 
too ; I will take them to the king. My fate, as 
well as that of Prussia, is in his hands. He alone 
can absolve me from the charge preferred against 
me. Give me the papers ! ” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE JUSTIFICATION. 

The king sat at his desk, assiduously engaged 
in writing, when the door opened, and the queen 
entered. Her whole bearing breathed an un- 
wonted, solemn earnestness ; her head was proud- 
ly erect, her cheeks pale, and a melancholy smile 
was playing on her lips. In her left hand she held a 
roll of papers. The king rose hastily to meet his 
wife with a kindly greeting. Louisa gave him her 
right hand, and laid her head for a moment on his 
shoulder. Looking into her husband’s face with 
a sweet, touching expression, “Do you love me, 
Frederick?” she asked in so low and gentle a 
voice that he scarcely heard it. Frederick Wil- 
liam smiled, and, instead of replying to her, im- 
printed a kiss on her fair brow. 

“ Do you believe in me? ’’ said Louisa. “ Oh, 
my lord and king, I implore you by everything that 


is sacred — by the memory of our children — teil 
me, sincerely and frankly, as if standing before 
God, do you believe in me ? Do you believe in 
my love — in my virtue ? ” 

“ Louisa,” exclaimed the king, indignantly and 
almost aghast, “ this question is too grave to be 
a jest, and too ludicrous to be grave.” 

“ And yet I am in earnest,” exclaimed the 
queen, in an outburst of excitement, which she 
was no longer able to restrain. “ Look at these 
papers, Frederick. They contain a terrible charge 
against your wife — the mother of your children — 
the queen of our people. They accuse the wife 
of a disgraceful liaison^ and the queen of the 
most infamous selfishness. Frederick, they charge 
me with loving the Emperor Alexander, and with 
having induced you, for the purpose of gratifying 
this passion, to enter into the alliance with Rus- 
sia. Now, you know the disgrace weighing me 
down, of which all Germany is aware by this 
time, gnd in which the malicious and evil-disposed 
will surely believe, even though the virtuous and 
compassionate may refuse to credit it. Read these 
papers, my husband ; read them in my presence, 
and if your features express but a shadow of 
doubt — if you fix your eyes but for a moment on 
me with an uncertain expression — let me die, and 
hide my head in the grave ! ” 

She offered the papers to the king, but Fred- 
erick William only glanced at them, and then 
laying them on the table, took from one of its 
drawers other papers. “ See, Louisa,” he said in 
his blunt, dry manner, “ these are the same num- 
bers of the Telegraph ; I have already had them 
for a week, and read every word of them.” 

The queen unfolded them. “ It is true,” she 
said, shuddering; “they are the same papers; I 
read there again the terrible words, ‘ Queen Louisa 
insists on continuing the alliance with Russia, 
only because her heart has formed an alliance 
with the fine-looking Emperor Alexander, and 
because she is passionately enamored of him.” 
Oh, my husband, these Avords have engraved 
themselves as a stigma on my forehead, and 
should your eyes behold it also, let me expunge 
it by sacrificing my life. Tell me the truth, 
Frederick ! Have I deserved it — have I ever sin- 
ned by a word — ^nay, by a look ? I have often 
thought and said, that there is a vestige of 
truth at the bottom of every rumor — that it may 
be greatly exaggerated, but cannot be entirely 
false. Is there any foundation Avhatever for this 
slander? Consider well, my husband, and if yon 
should find that I have sinned by a gesture, by & 
smile, banish me from your presence. Tell me 
that I am unworthy of being called your wife ; 


LofC. 


100 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


tear tlic bonds of friendship that unite you with 
the Emperor Alexander, and oppose him as an 
enemy, menacing and demanding satisfaction. 
There must be no stain on your honor, and if you 
believe the statements of these papers, show to the 
world that you will punish the faithless wife and 
spurn the treacherous friend ! ” 

The king put his hands on the glowing cheeks 
of his wife, and, raising her head, gazed at her 
with a long and tender look. “ Your friends had 
no mercy on you, then? ” he asked. “ They had 
to inform you pitilessly of what I wished so anx- 
iously to conceal from you ? I would willingly 
have cut off my right hand if I could have ex- 
punged with the blood trickling from the wound 
those lies from the public mind. But the world 
has now as little mercy on us as fate. Affliction 
has hitherto surrounded your beauty with the 
glory of a martyr ; but mean men have been in- 
stigated to make you a penitent sinner — a Magda- 
len of the martyr.’^ 

“ My beloved Frederick,” cried the queen, “ you 
evade my question ; you do not reply to me ! Tell 
me the truth. Do you believe in me ? Or do you 
deem me guilty V ” 

At this moment a low rap at the door inter- 
rupted them. The king listened, and then turned 
smilingly to his wife. “ It is Minister von Zas- 
trow, who comes with General Bertrand,” he said. 
“ I have granted an audience to the Frenchman at 
this hour, to receive the letter and the peace offers 
of Napoleon. He is proposing to me an alliance 
with France, and he, as well as his adherents here, 
I suppose, count on my having read those papers, 
linowing in what sense malicious men are inter- 
preting our alliance with Eussia. The reply that 
I shall make to Napoleon’s envoy will be also a 
reply* to your question ; hence you shall hear it, 
Louisa. Enter my cabinet ; the will con- 

ceal you from the eyes of my visitors, while you 
will hear every thing that is said.” He took the 
queen’s arm and conducted her quickly into.the 
adjoining room ; hastily rolled an easy-chair tow- 
ard the door, and requested her by a wave of 
his hand to sit down on it. He then lowered the 
thick velvet portiere, and, taking leave of his wife 
with a smile, returned to his room. 

Louisa gazed after him. “ Oh,” she whispered, 
“ how could I deceive and betray him ? — him whom 
I love as the cause of all my happiness, and who 
has rendered my life sacred and glorious ! Oh, 
my husband and my children ! my conscience is 
clear, and accuses me of no guilt ! Will you be- 
lieve it, Frederick ? Will those infamous slanders 
not leave a vestige of mistrust in your mind? 
But hush, hush ! the envoy is there already ! I 


will listen to what the king replies to him.” She 
bent her head closer, and her large blue eyes with 
their searching glances seemed to pierce the 
heavy velvet, so that she might not only hear but 
see what was going on in the room. 

In obedience to a sign made by the king, the 
door of the anteroom had opened, and General 
Bertrand, accompanied by General von Zastrow, 
entered. The king, standing in the middle of the 
room, returned the deep, respectful obeisances of 
the two gentlemen by a careless nod, and fixed 
his quiet eyes searchingly on the French general. 

“ Sire,” said General von Zastrow, in a loud and 
solemn voice, “ General Bertrand, adjutant of his 
majesty the Emperor Napoleon, in accordance 
with the gracious leave of your majesty, has ap- 
peared here in order to deliver to you an auto- 
graph letter from his imperial master.” 

“I am glad to see General Bertrand, and to 
make his acquaintance,” said Frederick William, 
composedly ; “ I like the brave ; and not merely 
the French army, but aU men, know you to be a 
brave officer.” 

General Bertrand blushed. “Ah, sire,” he 
said, “ if I have not deserved this praise hitherto, 
your royal and kindly words will stimulate me in 
the future to strive with unflagging zeal to become 
worthy of it. I deem myself happy because my 
august master the emperor selected me to be the 
bearer of his letter and of his proposition, for he 
thereby enables me to do homage to the noblest 
and best of kings — to the exalted sovereign who 
bears prosperity and adversity with equal dignity. 
Your majesty will permit me to deliver the letter 
of my emperor into your hands.” He approached 
the king, and, presenting to him the large letter to 
which the imperial seal had been affixed, reveren- 
tially bent his knee. 

“ Oh, no,” said Frederick William, quickly, “ a 
brave soldier must not humble himself in this 
manner; rise, general ! ” 

General Bertrand rose, holding the imperial let- 
ter still in his hands, for the king had not yet 
taken it. Looking at him inquiringly, “ Sire,” 
he said, “may I request your majesty to receive 
the letter of my emperor ? ” 

“ Ah, I forgot,” exclaimed the king. “ You are 
the bearer of a letter the Emperor Napoleon has 
addressed to me. Let me confess my want of 
skill : I am unable to read your emperor’s hand- 
writing very rapidly, and it is disagreeable slowly 
to decipher such a letter. Moreover, what the 
emperor has to say to me will, doubtless, sound 
better when uttered by your lips, than in the black 
words on the pap<?t. I, therefore, request you to 
read it to me.” 


THE JUSTIFICATION. 


101 


“ Sire,” exclaimed General Bertrand, “ I shall 
not dare to break the seal of a letter addressed to 
your majesty, and not to me.” 

“ Oh, you may do so,” said the king, “ I permit 
you to break the seal. What the Emperor Na- 
poleon and I have to write to each other need not 
be sealed. Everybody may know it. And, I sup- 
pose his letters will be only a sort of continuation 
of the bulletins he issued in Potsdam and Berlin. 
Such bulletins and letters belong to the world and 
history, which will judge them.” 

“ Oh,” whispered the queen, who had heard 
every word, “oh, why cannot I see him in his 
proud calmness and dignity, and thank him for 
his noble words ! ” She seized the portiere with 
her slender fingers and pushed it aside a little, so 
as to be able to see what was going on in the 
other room. The king, perhaps, had noticed the 
slight rustling, for he glanced quickly at the cur- 
tain ; it opened immediately, the noble and beauti- 
ful face of the queen appeared ; she nodded with 
radiant eyes a smiling greeting to her husband, 
and kissed her hand to him ; her head then dis- 
appeared from the aperture, and the folds of 
dark velvet closed again. General Bertrand and 
General von Zastrow had seen nothing. Both 
stood with their backs toward the door, and re- 
spect prevented them from looking around toward 
the slight noise that reached their ears for a mo- 
ment. 

A, smile illuminated the king’s face. “Well,” 
he asked, almost jestingly, turning to General 
Bertrand, “ you have not broken the seal yet ? Do 
so, for you ought to understand that I am anxious 
to hear the contents of this letter.” 

“ Sire, inasmuch as you command me, I 
obey,” said Bertrand. With a quick pressure 
of his hand he broke the seal and opened the 
letter. 

“ Now let me hear it,” said the king, gliding 
slowly and carelessly into the easy-chair standing 
at the side of the desk. “ There are two chairs ; 
take seats, gentlemen ! ” 

“ Your majesty will permit me to stand. My 
master the emperor is not accustomed to have 
his letters read in another position.” 

“Yes, he may require his subjects to pay to 
him the deference of standing when one of his let- 
ters is being read,” said the king. “ You may 
stand, therefore, if you please. General von Zas- 
trow, sit down.” The king said this in so stern 
and imperious a tone that General von Zastrow 
felt resistance impossible, and that he would have 
to obey the king’s order. He took a chair in 
silence, inwardly aghast at this disrespectful 
breach of etiquette. 


“Bead,” said the king, dryly. General Ber- 
trand unfolded the letter and read as follows ; 

“ Your majesty will receive this letter at the 
hands of my Adjutant-General Bertrand, who en- 
joys my friendship. I, therefore, request you to 
repose entire confidence in every thing that he 
says, and I flatter myself that his mission will be 
agreeable to you. 

“Bertrand will communicate to your majesty 
my views about the present state of your affairs. 
I desire to set bounds to the misfortunes of your 
family, and to organize, as soon as possible, the 
Prussian monarchy, whose mediating power is ne- 
cessary for the tranquillity of Europe. 

“ Bertrand will also communicate to you the 
easiest and quickest way in which this can be 
brought about, and I hope your majesty will let 
me know that you have taken the step which will 
accomplish this purpose in the best manner, and 
which, at the same time, will agree with the wel- 
fare of your subjects ; that is to say, that you ac- 
cept the peace which I am offering to you. At all 
events, I beg your majesty to feel convinced that 
I am sincerely disposed to resume our former rela- 
tions, and that I also wish to come to an under- 
standing with Russia and England, provided these 
powers should be animated with the same desire. 
I should detest myself if I were to be the cause 
of so much bloodshed. But how can I help it ? 
The conclusion of peace is therefore in the hands 
of your majesty, and it would be the happiest day 
of my life if you accept my present propositions, 

“ Napoleon.” 

“You have to make oral explanations to this 
letter of your emperor ? ” asked the king, when 
Bertrand paused. 

“Yes, sire, my master the emperor intrusted 
me with further communications to you,” said 
Bertrand. “ But, in the first place, I beg leave 
of your majesty to deliver the imperial letter into 
your hands.” He approached the king and pre- 
sented the paper to him with a respectful bow. 

The king did not take it, but pointed to his 
desk. “ Lay it there,” he said, carelessly. “ The 
purpose of this letter is accomplished ; I know its 
contents, and that is all I care about. And now, 
general, communicate to me as briefly as possible 
the verbal commissions with which the emperor 
has intrusted you.” 

“ Sire, his majesty the emperor authorized me 
to repeat to you that it was his liveliest wish to 
resume his former amicable relations with Prussia, 
and that he would shrink from no sacrifice to ef 
feet it. The emperor longs for nothing more 
ardently than to restore your states to your ma- 
jesty, and to conduct you back to your capital.” 


102 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


“ As his vassal ? ” asked the king, smiling sar- 
castically. 

“No, sire, as a free and independent king.” 

“ Not as Napoleon’s ally, then ? ” 

“Yes, sire, as the emperor’s ally, but as free 
and independent as he is himself. It is true, the 
emperor hopes and wishes that Prussia will be 
friendly toward France ; he relies on your majesty’s 
assistance in his struggle with Kussia, which, in 
that case, will soon bow to the united will of 
France and Prussia, and be compelled to accept a 
treaty of peace. In return, the emperor will sur- 
render to the just wishes of your majesty seditious 
Poland, which, as the emperor has become satis- 
fied, is unable to bear an independent existence. 
The rebellious provinces of Prussian Poland shall 
speedily be compelled to yield unconditional obe- 
dience to the Prussian sceptre, and your country 
shall occupy once more the position due to her in 
the council of European nations. It will be un- 
necessary for her to make for this purpose any 
sacrifices to the friends and allies of France ; all 
her fortresses and provinces shall be fully restored, 
and so soon as the treaty of peace will have been 
definitively concluded, the French troops will evac- 
uate the Prussian territory.” 

While General Bertrand was speaking, the face 
of Minister von Zastrow had brightened, and was 
now really radiant with joy. Animated by the 
cheering words of the Frenchman, he rose from 
his seat, and looked at the king with clasped 
hands and imploring eyes. But the countenance 
of Frederick William remained impenetrable and 
cold ; not the slightest expression of joy or grati- 
fication was to be read in it. 

“ Are you done, general ? ” asked the king, after 
a pause. 

“ Yes, sire. I am waiting for your majesty’s 
reply.” 

“ This reply will be brief and decisive,” ex- 
claimed Frederick William, loudly, rising slowly 
and with truly royal dignity. “ I will not accept 
this alliance and this peace ! ” 

“ Your majesty,” said General von Zastrow, in 
dismay, forgetful of the requirements of etiquette, 
“your majesty, that is impossible! You cannot 
be in earnest ; I beseech you first to hear the 
opinion of your ministers, and to consult a cabinet 
council.” 

“Silence!” said the king, indignantly; “the 
only voices that I ought to consult with regard to 
this question are not those of my ministers, but 
those of my conscience and honor. It behooves 
the king alone to decide upon war or peace. I 
repeat, therefore, I will not accept this peace nor 
enter into the alliance offered under such circum- 


stances. I might content myself with this decla- 
ration, but I shall tell you the reasons of my refusal 
that you may repeat them to your emperor. I 
cannot accept, for it would be a defeat and dis- 
grace more humiliating than the loss of a battle. 
What, sir ! I am to receive by th6 grace and hon 
plaisir of your emperor the gift of a position to 
which I am entitled by my birth ! The Emperor 
Napoleon condescends to restore my states after 
forcibly expelling me from them ! If I were to 
accept this offer, I should thereby condemn my- 
self ; and this war, into which I entered so re- 
luctantly, because I foresaw its disastrous con- 
sequences, would be nothing but a reckless adven- 
ture, abandoned by myself because unsuccessful. 
If I allowed Napoleon to reinstate me in my rights, 
what would I be but his vassal ? Not a king by 
the grace of God, but a king by the grace of Na- 
poleon — not the ruler of a free and independent 
German state, but the governor of a French prov- 
ince— the despised oppressor of an enslaved peo- 
ple, robbed of their honor, independence, and 
nationality. Now, I commenced this war for the 
sake of my own honor and that of my people. I 
commenced it to set bounds to French cupidity 
and thirst for conquest ; to preserve to Germany 
her German and to Prussia her Prussian charac- 
ter, and to drive back the Confederation of the 
Rhine beyond the frontier of the Rhine. The for- 
tune of war has not sustained me in these efforts, 
and victory perched upon the eagles of France. 
But the Prussian eagle is not yet dead ; he may 
still hope to rise again, and, endowed with renewed 
vigor, reconquer what belongs to him. What was 
taken by the sword can be reconquered only by 
the sword. My honor, as well as that of my army 
and people, was wounded on the battle-fields of 
Jena and Auerstadt ; it cannot be healed by the 
balm of Napoleon’s grace ; it can only be redeemed 
by blood ! ” 

“ Sire, I beseech you, do not allow yourself to 
be carried away by the ardor of your heroism,” 
exclaimed General Bertrand, feelingly. “ Remem- 
ber that after the rejection of this peace the 
Emperor Napoleon will be a relentless enemy of 
yours, and leave nothing undone in order to anni- 
hilate Prussia. Your majesty ought also to take 
into consideration that you lack an army — that 
your forces have been dispersed, and that your 
fortresses have surrendered.” 

“ Colberg and Graudenz are still holding out,” 
exclaimed the king, “ and so is Dantzic.” 

“ Sire, if you reject this peace, the first step of 
the emperor will be to take Dantzic by assault,” 
said General Bertrand. 

“ Your majesty, have mercy on Dantzic,” ex- 


THE JUSTIEICATION. 


103 


claimed General von Zastrow, imploringly ; “ have 
mercy on your blockaded fortresses — on your 
poor distressed subjects ! ” So soon as your ma- 
jesty accepts this peace, the Emperor Napoleon 
intends withdrawing all the French troops from 
Prussian territory. Oh, pray take into considera- 
tion how dreadfully your people have suffered by 
the heavy contributions, and the enormous supplies 
to the troops ! Remember that they are over- 
whelmed with wretchedness, and are kneeling 
and crying to God and to their king to restore 
peace.” 

“ 0 my God,” murmured the queen, “ inspire 
him with the true decision, and grant that he may 
perceive and choose what is right ! ” She knelt 
down behind the curtain as if to hear better the 
king’s words, that to her were the words of God. 
The king did not seem to notice his minister’s 
supplication; his eyes glanced at him coldly and 
disdainfully, and were then fixed gravely on the 
face of the French general. 

“ I am not quite done with my reply to your 
propositions,” he said. “I have told you the 
reasons why I cannot accept peace. It only re- 
mains to explain why, though the terms were 
honorable, I could not and would not be allowed 
to enter into this alliance. By virtue of it I 
should be obliged to espouse the cause of France 
against her enemies, and to wage war against 
Russia, my ally. I am to violate the only sure 
compact remaining to me in order to become a 
mere cipher in the hands of Napoleon ! I am to 
betray him who has been faithful to me! The 
Emperor of Russia is my personal friend. At 
the grave of Frederick the Great I swore with 
him to maintain the alliance of both our hearts 
and our states, and no other voice induced me to 
take this step but my inclination, my policy, and 
my reason. The Emperor of Russia, true to our 
mutual oath, renewed his protestations of friend- 
ship in the hour of danger, and his army is ready 
to uphold our common cause. If, now that France 
is offering peace to me at the expense of Russia, I 
were to accept it, I should commit a perfidious 
act, and, as a Prussian soldier, as a friend of the 
Emperor Alexander, I must decidedly reject any 
idea of such a desertion. A German keeps his 
word, and does not trifle with treaties he has 
sworn to. German fealty has not yet become an 
empty sound, and France will be obliged to admit 
that she is struggling with an adversary who does 
not sell his honor for provinces or for money. 
Now you know all I had to communicate. Tell 
Napoleon that intrigues and slanders cannot 
separate me from my alliance with the Emperor 
of Russia any more than adulation and advan- 


tageous offers. My resolution will remain as firm 
as a rock. And now, good-by, general ! ” 

He waved his hand to Bertrand, and received 
with proud calmness the respectful bows with 
which the French general withdrew. 

No sooner had the door closed than the queen 
appeared. Her eyes filled with tears, and stretch- 
ing out her arms toward her husband, seemed a 
picture of beauty, grace, and love. The king 
hastened to her and pressed her firmly against nis 
heart. “Ai’e you satisfied with my answer, 
Louisa ? ” he asked. “ Do you know now what I 
think of those wretched calumnies ? ” 

The queen bent and kissed his hand. “ I thank 
you, my beloved husband,” she whispered tender- 
ly. “ Wise and kind as you always are, you 
knew how to comfort my heart, and by your heroic 
words to fill my soul with enthusiasm and delight. 
My husband and king, you have restored my 
honor. I care no longer for the abuse of the 
world, but shall always think of this sacred hour, 
for my king believes in me, and my husband still 
loves his Louisa ; he knows that the mother of 
his children is innocent, and may freely raise her 
eyes to heaven.” 

“ I know more than that,” said the king, laying 
his hand on his wife’s head, as if blessing her ; 
“ I know that in these times of adversity you are 
the only hope left me ; I know that I derive 
courage and consolation from you, and that in my 
misfortunes I still deem myself fortunate, because 
you are by my side — ^the angel of my life ! ” 

“ Ah, Frederick,” exclaimed the queen, bursting 
into tears, “ Frederick, how rich and happy you 
make me ! Am I not an enviable wife, possessed 
as I am of such a husband I ” In passionate ten- 
derness, she threw her arms about him, and in 
loving embrace rested long on his breast. 

Some one rapped repeatedly and discreetly at 
the door. Louisa, blushing, raised her head and 
dropped her arms. The king ordered the person 
to walk in. It was General von Zastrow who en- 
tered, pale and gloomy. Frederick William smil- 
ingly beckoned him to approach. 

“You are dissatisfied with me, Zastrow?” he 
said, in a pleasant tone ; “ you beh’eve it would 
be better to make peace ? ” 

“ Your majesty, I am afraid you have rejected 
an advantageous alliance, and will, perhaps, be 
compelled soon to accept by far more rigorous 
terms.” 

“ You do not know, then, that large Russian 
forces are advancing, and that the Emperor 
Alexander himself probably leads his troops 
against the enemy ? ” 

“ Pardon me, sire, but I do not believe in the 


104 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


friendship of Russia. Tour majesty uttered 
words so generous to-day, that my eyes filled 
with tears of admiration, and I felt proud as a 
man and subject, although my heart as a general 
and minister was overwhelmed with sorrow. 
May Russia deserve your fidelity ! may she not 
disappomt your hopes, and commit, as you said, a 
perfidious act, by entering into an alliance with 
France at the expense of Prussia ! But may your 
majesty, above all, get an army courageous and 
strong enough to brave all your enemies, and 
restore the gi’eatness of Prussia ! ” 

“You do not believe, then, in this army?” 
asked the king, gloomily. 

“Your majesty, in order to organize an army, 
money — a great deal of money — is indispen- 
sable.” 

“ And you mean to say we have pqne ? ” 

“Your majesty, not only your privy purse is 
entirely exhausted, but there is also no money in 
the state and district treasuries. Gold and silver 
seem to have wholly disappeared ; stocks and 
commercial paper are depreciating every day, 
and the bankruptcy of the state will be inevit- 
able ! ” 

“ Ah ! ” exclaimed the king, indignantly, “ do 
not utter such a word ! Never shall I permit 
such distress to be inflicted upon my poor sub- 
jects ! ” 

lie commenced rapidly pacing the room ; sud- 
denly, however, he stood still in front of the 
queen, who had softly withdrawn into a window- 
niche, where she had watched every movement of 
the king. “ Louisa, will your repasts be as agree- 
able to you on porcelain plates as on gold and 
silver ? ” 

The queen smiled. “The little Princess of 
Mecklenburg was accustomed to take her meals 
off porcelain,” she said, “ and I honestly con- 
fess that the Queen of Prussia at times envied 
her her plain white plates.” 

The king, turning again to his minister, said : 
“We are not yet so poor as you seem to believe ; 
our large golden dinner-set, the heirloom of our 
ancestors, was safely removed from Berlin, and is 
now here at Mem el. It embraces pieces of the 
highest value, for which millions have been paid. 
May my ancestors pardon my giving away what 
they collected ! I am not doing so in a reckless 
and extravagant manner, but with profound sor- 
row and with a mournful heart. But it cannot be 
helped ! General von Zastrow, I shall issue the 
necessary orders to have my large golden dinner- 
set either sold or pawned. We shall receive at 
least a million dollars for it.” 

“ And the privy purse of your majesty stands 


greatly in need of this million,” said General von 
Zastrow, drawing a sigh. 

The king shrugged his shoulders. “Not a dol- 
lar of it shall be paid into my jirivy purse,” he 
said. “ The money shall be distributed among 
the public treasuries, that the lack of funds may 
be temporarily relieved, and that my poor suffer- 
ing subjects need not fear that the state become 
bankrupt.” 

“But if your majesty should carry out this 
generous resolution,” exclaimed the general, 
“ you may soon be in danger yourself of priva- 
tions.” 

The king cast a long, inquiring glance on his 
wife. Louisa smiled and nodded kindly to hini. 
“ If questions of economy and family matters are 
to be considered,” she said, “ a woman may be 
permitted to say a word in the council of men, 
and to give her opinion as a housewife. I think 
we are tolerating a great many superfluous •and 
very expensive things in our private household, 
and, if my husband does not object, I should like 
to ask for a few changes.” 

“ I shall neyer dare to contradict you,” said 
Frederick, kindly. “ Let me, therefore, know the 
changes you wish to make.” 

“ In the first place, I think that we have too 
many servants, considering our present circum- 
stances, and the small house in which we are 
living. As we do not give dinners, the people 
attached to the kitchen may be greatly dimin- 
ished ; most of the cooks, as well as the legion of 
footmen, maybe discharged. It is necessary, too, 
to reduce the number of carriages, and to sell 
most of the horses standing uselessly in the 
stable. A plain vehicle, drawn by two good 
horses, is sufiScient for my children, and whenever 
I want a ride, I believe my husband will lend me 
his yellow travelling-coach.” 

“ Provided you allow me a seat at your side,” 
said the king, smiling. “Are there any other 
suggestions you deem necessary ? ” 

“ I wish the servants surrounding us to appear 
in a plain dress, and the expensive hveries, cov- 
ered with gold and silver lace, to disappear. A 
plain black, cloth coat, trimmed with white, is suf- 
ficient. It is not, however, to signify that we are 
in mourning, but only to represent the Prussian 
colors, and on looking at them I shall aUvays feel 
proud and happy, while now’^, on beholding the 
liveries covered with gold and silver, I cannot 
suppress my shame, for I think of the distress of 
our subjects, and of the misery of our country. 
Let us begin, therefore, a plain, unpretending ex- 
istence, my husband ; let us set an example of 
simphcity to our people, and show them that one 


COUNTESS MARY WALEWSKA. 


105 


may be contented, though deprived of the splen- 
dors of wealth and position.” 

The king took her hand and pressed it against 
his lips. “ I consent to all your wishes, Louisa,” 
he said ; “ I will issue to-day the necessary orders 
to the steward. — You see, general, our privy 
purse will not lack money, for we shall realize a 
handsome sum by the sale of our horses, carriages, 
and the gold and silver lace of the liveries. More- 
over, the war will not last forever, and we may, 
perhaps, look soon for a final decision.” 

“Your majesty, war, then, is absolutely un- 
avoidable ? ” 

“You still ask this question? Yes, the war 
will be continued. I will hear nothing further 
about peace.” 

“ In that case,” said General von Zastrow, 
trembling, “ I i^ysj; huthbl'y, rieq%st your majesty 
to accept my resignation ; the continuation of the 
war, and the rejection of the peace offered to 
Prussia, are so contrary to my conviction, that my 
conscience does not permit me to assist in carry- 
ing out your plans.” 

“The first duty of every faithful servant is to 
comply with his master’s orders,” said the king, 
sternly. “ I cannot accept your resignation, for I 
know that you are an honest servant, and that 
only your momentary anger has misled you. I 
give you, therefore, time to collect your thoughts 
and regain your temper. Work and activity are 
the best remedies for that purpose, and possibly 
there may soon be a favorable turn in our affairs, 
proving to you that you were wrong, and causing 
you to change your mind. Until further orders, 
therefore, you will remain my minister of war, 
but I shall give you an assistant. I shall appoint 
- Hardenberg minister without portfolio, and give 
him a seat and vote in the new ministerial coun- 
cil which I am about to organize.” 

General von Zastrow started, and his face be- 
came paler. “Your majesty,” he faltered in a 
low voice, “ I — ” 

“ The matter is settled,” said the king, calmly. 
“ I do not wish to hear further objection, general. 
We shall hold a meeting of the ministerial council 
to-morrow, and Hardenberg must be present. 
Good-by ! ” 

General von Zastrow dared not contradict ; he 
bowed in silence to the royal couple and tottered 
to the door. 

When he had retired, the queen, turning to her 
husband, exclaimed, “ You touched his sorest 
spot. He hates Hardenberg, and it will greatly 
torment him to have him at his side.” 

“ He deserved some punishment,” said the king, 
gravely. “ For it was certainly owing to him that 


you were informed of those infamous slanders. 
Who laid the papers before you ? ” 

“ The Countess von Truchsess, my reader.” 

“ Zastrow’s niece ! My supposition was right. 
It was a deep-laid intrigue, designed to drive us 
into the meshes of the peace party, and induce us 
to give up the Russian alliance.” 

“ Do not be angry with them,” said the queen, 
“ their intentions were good.” 

“ I know the good intentions of those so-called 
friends,” exclaimed the king, vehemently. “ They 
drive a dagger slowly into our breast, and when 
they see the wound bleeding, they excuse them- 
selves with the pretext that their intentions were 
good ! But be who has really honest intentions 
tries to spare his friend every pain. My ‘ inten- 
tions ’ were also good when I concluded to place 
Hardenberg in company with Zastrow. I do not 
like change ; but if Zastrow, in the course of a 
few weeks, should not accustom himself to the 
presence of Hardenberg, he must withdraw, and 
Hardenberg remain.” * 

' ♦ 

OHAPTEPv XXY. 

COUNTESS MART WALEWSKA. 

News of the highest importance reached Castle 
Finkenstein, where Napoleon had been residing 
since the battle of Eylau. Dantzic had fallen. 
It had been compelled to surrender, with its im- 
mense materiel and supplies. In vain had been 
the heroic defence of the garrison, the energy of 
General Xalkreuth, commander of the fortress, 
the ardor and courage of the soldiers, the unflag- 
ging self-abnegation of the citizens ; in vain,.the 
bloodshed, the mutilated limbs, the destruction 
of property ! Lefebvre, the French general, had 
drawn the circle of his besieging forces closer 
around the devoted city, and fresh troops poured 
into his ranks, while every day the garrison was 


* The united elforts of the peace party, headed by Gen- 
eral Zastrow and Cabinet-counsellor Beyme, did not suc- 
ceed this time in keeping Hardenberg out of the cabinet. 
The king reposed confidence in him, end when, a few 
weeks later, the Emperor Alexander paid a visit to the 
royal couple at Memel, he distinguished Hardenberg, 
and ignored General von Zastrow so completely, that the 
latter was deeply olfended. His mortification was still 
augmented by the fact that Hardenberg was selected to 
accompany the king to the camp of the united Prussian 
and Kussian troops. General von Zastrow then sent in 
his resignation, for the second time, and it was accepted. 
Hardenberg became minister of foreign affairs in his 
place. 


106 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


becoming weaker. Only the most vigorous succor 
could have saved Dantzie. General Kalkreuth 
had long hoped for it. England, now the ally of 
Ptussia and Prussia, had promised aid, and equip- 
ped a sloop-of-war of twenty-two guns, to force 
the blockade, convey ammunition into the city, 
and destroy the pontoon-bridge of the French; 
but the sloop stranded,' and had to surrender. 
The Eussians, too, had promised assistance to the 
city. Seven thousand embarked at Pillau, and 
landed at Weichselmiinde; but there they were 
attacked by Oudinot, who captured nearly one- 
half, and dispersed the rest. 

The last hopes of Dantzie were gone ; there 
was no relief. Lefebvre ordered a bombardment, 
and then sent a flag of truce to General Kal- 
kreuth, informing him that he would take the 
city by assault if the fortress did not surren- 
der. General Kalkreuth gazed mournfully at the 
stranded British sloop-of-war, and, pointing it out 
to his officers, who surrounded him in gloomy 
silence, said, “ That is the tombstone of Dant- 
zic ! ” He then sent for the bearer of the flag of 
truce, and the negotiations commenced. In the 
mean time, shells and red-hot shot were poured 
into the city, killing alike the soldiers on the 
ramparts and the citizens in their dwellings. 
Lamentations and shrieks, the roar of artillery, 
the uninterrupted peals of the tocsin, calling out 
the inhabitants, mingled with the crash of the 
falling houses, and the wails of the wounded and 
dying. 

General Kalkreuth pitied the city ; he was un- 
willing to add the horrors of an assault to the 
agony it had already undergone. He signed the 
capitulation, but claimed for the garrison liberty 
to march out without being made prisoners of 
war, and the surrender of their arms. Lefebvre 
granted these conditions, but insisted that the 
Prussian troops should not engage to serve against 
France before the expiration of a year. General 
Kalkreuth accepted this clause, and the gates of 
Dantzie opened to the French conqueror on the 
24th of May, 1807. 

The Emperor Napoleon received the news of 
this great victory at Castle Finkenstein, not far from 
Tilsit. His face brightened, and he immediately 
sent a, courier to Marshal Lefebvre, to invite him 
to pay him a visit at the castle. But the joy of 
the emperor soon disappeared. His generals, in- 
timate friends, and servants, endeavored to cheer 
him. They tried all the arts of eloquence and 
flattery to dispel his sadness. Talleyrand at- 
tempted to amuse him by reciting, with charm- 
ing medisance and pointed humor, passages from 
the rich stores of his memoirs, and by relating. 


with Attic wit, the story of his first love, which 
had bequeathed to him a lame foot as a remem- 
brancer. Lannes, with the blunt humor of a 
true soldier, told stories of his campaigns. Duroc 
smilingly reminded the emperor of many an ad- 
venture they had had in Paris, .when, in plain 
gray coats, and hats drawn over their eyes, they 
had wandered through the streets of the capital, 
to ascertain the disposition of the people, and re- 
ceived many a rebuke on daring to abuse Napo- 
leon. It is true, the emperor was amused on hear- 
ing such anecdotes, but his momentary laughter 
revealed more vividly his dark and* stormy tem- 
per. 

To-day the generals resorted to another method 
also of amusing him. They proposed cards. 
He agreed, and they commenced a game of 
vingt-et-un. Formerly, the emperor, on playing, 
had always been in excellent spirits, and did not 
disdain even to cheat a little, frequently conceal- 
ing a card or two. But now he played gravely 
and honestly, and the consequence was that he 
lost. Throwing the cards indignantly aside, and 
greeting the marshals with a silent nod, he crossed 
the room with hasty steps, and retired to his cab- 
inet. 

“ He has not yet forgotten the affair of Ey- 
lau,” grumbled Marshal Lannes. “ It is true, we 
boasted of our victory there, and ordered a Te 
Deum to be sung, but he knows very well how 
things stood, and feels badly because the Empei’or 
of Kussia also had a Te Deum sung.” 

“ I do not believe. Marshal, that that is the 
cause of the emperor’s grief,” said Talleyrand, 
shrugging his shoulders. “ Napoleon is not in 
the habit of mourning for past events, but a fail- 
ure incites him to renewed exertions, and inspires 
his genius to perform fresh and daring exploits. 
Although the lion for once may have seen his prey 
slip from his grasp, it does not render him dis- 
pirited. He only shakes his mane, and crouches 
for a new bound.” 

“ Then you believe, M. Minister, that the em- 
peror is planning another battle ? ” joyfully asked 
Lannes. 

“ I am convinced of it, but do not believe that 
to be the reason of his ill-humor. The furrows 
on his brow express his sorrow for the death of 
young Napoleon — his little nephew — the grand- 
son of the empress ! ” 

“ Ah, bah ! ” exclaimed Lannes, “ it would 
really be worth while for a great chieftain to 
mourn for a child eight years of age ! ” 

“ He does not mourn for the child, but for the 
successor,” said Talleyrand. “You know, the 
son of his brother Louis and his stepdaughter 


COUNTESS MARY WALEWSKA. 


107 


Hortense was to be his heir — the future Emperor 
of France. You see how difficult it is to say in 
advance who is to be the heir of a throne. Some 
accident — a brick falling from a roof, an attack 
of the measles, a contemptible cough — may bring 
about the ruin of dynasties and the rise of new 
ones. The hopes of Josephine have been buried 
with young Napoleon Louis. Poor empress ! her 
downfall is inevitable, for the emperor must think 
henceforth of an heir — of a legitimate union. 
Alas ! how many tears will that cost poor Jose- 
phine’s heart ! ” 

“ I am sure. Prince de Benevento, when you de- 
plore the fate of the empress, you suggest great 
sufferings for her. But we know the subtle dip- 
lomacy of the minister who says that language 
was given for the sole purpose of concealing our 
thoughts. Hence, prince, I am in the habit of 
believing exactly the reverse of what you say. 
You are sure to overthrow Josephine and have 
already selected her successor. Tell us who is 
she ? Upon whom do you intend to confer the 
honor of giving an heir to the emperor ? ” 

“ Let us rather put this question to our taciturn 
friend Duroc,” said Talleyrand, softly laying his 
hand on the shoulder of the grand marshal, who 
was standing in front of them, with folded arms. 
“ Please take notice that the grand marshal has 
not added a single word to our conversation — that 
he has listened calmly to our suppositions about 
the emperor’s melancholy, and has not assisted us 
in ferreting out the truth. It is evident, there- 
fore, that he is aware of it, and that it does not 
affect him painfully. Pray tell us, grand mar- 
shal, who is right — the Duke de Montebello or 
myself ? ” 

“ Perhaps, prince, both of you are mistaken,” 
said Duroc, “ and perhaps, again, both of you are 
right. Who is able to fathom the thoughts and 
secrets — but I believe the emperor is calling 
me ! ” And he approached the door of the im- 
perial cabinet and listened. 

“ Duroc ! ” cried the emperor, “ Duroc ! ” 

The grand marshal took leave of the two gen- 
tlemen with a careless bow and hastened away, 
Napoleon sat on an easy-chair at the open win- 
dow, supporting his head on his hand, and gazing 
out on the landscape. He seemed to have entirely 
forgotten that he had called the grand marshal, 
and did not even notice the latter after he had 
entered. An air of profound sadness was depicted 
in his features. 

“Your majesty called me,” said Duroc, ap- 
proaching. 

Napoleon started and turned his head slowly 
toward the grand marshal. “ It is true,” he said, 


“ I called you, Duroc. I was ungracious, and 
left you without saying a kind word to you. I 
am sorry. You may repeat my words to the 
other two princes.” He gave his small white 
hand to Duroc, who pressed it against his breast 
with an expression of tenderness. “I thank 
your majesty for this fresh proof of your mag- 
nanimity,” he said, “ and shall communicate it to 
the other two princes.” 

He was about to withdraw, but the emperor 
detained him. “ Tell me, first, Duroc, whether 
they were very angry with me ? Did old Lannes 
grumble ? Did Talleyrand comment in his usual 
manner ? ” 

“ Oh, sire ! ” exclaimed Duroc, reproachfully, 
“ all three of us were filled only with grief ; we 
were considering what might be the cause of your 
majesty’s melancholy.” 

“ Well, and what did you guess ? and what 
Lannes ? ” 

“ He believed your majesty was striving to 
crown the battle of Eylau with a brilliant victory, 
and that you were planning a new battle.” 

“ He is right,” exclaimed Napoleon, energeti- 
cally. “We are not yet at the end of our strug- 
gle, and the brave men who were buried under 
the snow of Eylau must be avenged. I shall soon 
bid the sun of Austerlitz and Jena shine on the 
plains of Prussia, and dazzle the eyes of the 
Emperor of Russia. I will bring him to his 
knees and make him cry ‘ jPaier peccavi ! ’ I will 
show him what it is to menace me ; and when I 
unfurl my banner on the Kremlin of Moscow, 
Alexander shall bear the train of my purple cloak. 
The world belongs to me ! Woe unto him who 
stands in my way — I will crush him as the ele- 
phant crushes the worm ! Lannes is right ; I, am 
planning a new battle. But it is not this that 
makes me sad. What did Talleyrand say — Tal- 
leyrand, Prince de Benevento, with the keen nose 
and the impenetrable smile ? ” 

“ Talleyrand said it was not the planning of 
future battles, but that you were mourning for 
the little son of the King of Holland.” 

“ Ah, indeed, Talleyrand is not altogether mis- 
taken,” exclaimed Napoleon, heaving a sigh ; 
“ my heart is mourning for young Napoleon. He 
was my darling, and I had accustomed myself to 
regard him as my heir. He was blood of my 
blood, and there was something shining in his 
eyes that seemed to me to be a beam of my own 
mind. I loved the boy. And now — what did 
Talleyrand say besides, Duroc ? ” asked Napoleon, 
interrupting himself. “You are silent. Be 
frank ; I want to know it all ! ” 

“ Sire,” said Duroc, timidly, “ the Prince de 


108 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


Benevento lamented the fate of the empress, for 
he believed the death of little Prince Napoleon 
Louis to be a mournful — nay, a fatal event for 
her, inasmuch as your majesty would now be un- 
der the necessity of having a successor to the 
noble and adored Empress Josephine, and an heir- 
apparent to your empire.” 

“ And he was impudent enough to lament her 
fate ! ” exclaimed Napoleon, “ he who has striven 
for years to overthrow her — ^he who always 
united with my family to prove to me the right 
of disowning her. Ah, poor dear Josephine ! I 
ought never to have thought of listening to their 
insinuations ; I was hitherto her most faithful 
defender, for I love her, and know that she is a 
sincere friend.” 

“ An empress, sire,” said Duroc, “ who would 
be an ornament to any throne, and whose grace, 
amiability, and kindheartedness, have won as 
many subjects for your majesty as your battles. 
Sire, all France loves and worships the Empress 
Josephine ; all France would weep with her if her 
enemies succeed in removing her from her throne, 
and from the side of her adored husband, and the 
tears and imprecations of a whole people would 
be the festive welcome with which France would 
receive a new empress ! ” 

“You paint in very glaring colors,” exclaimed 
Napoleon, gloomily, “ but, then, I know you to 
be one of Josephine’s admirers. She is really a 
good wife, and I never had room for complaint. 
But for one consideration, I should never think of 
separating from her. Fate is against her, and I 
am afraid it will compel me — ah, let us not dare 
to pry into the future. Let us rather attend to the 
present. You have told me the suppositions of 
Lannes and Talleyrand, but not your own. What 
did you say ? ” He looked at Duroc with his 
eagle eyes, and repeated, “ What did you say ? ” 

“ Sire,” replied Duroc, “ I said nothing.” 

“You said nothing, because you know what 
ails me,” said Napoleon, vehemently, “ because 
you can fathom the pain, the anger, and grief of 
my lieart ! ” 

He rose from his easy-chair, and paced the 
room, with his arms behind him. “ Duroc,” he 
said, after a long pause, and in a husky, tremu- 
lous voice, “is it not a disgrace that this should 
happen ? The world is bowing to me, and recog- 
nizing me as its master, and a woman dares re- 
sist me — a fair, delicate little creature that I 
could crush, as it were, in my hands — that an an- 
gry breath from my mouth could destroy as a 
lily in the blast of the desert. Duroc, she dares 
resist me, and opposes a cold, stubborn silence to 
my request — nay, to my fervent supplications ! ” 


“Sire, she is married,” said Duroc, timidly, 
she is married, and — ” 

“ She is married to a husband whom she does 
not — cannot love,” exclaimed Napoleon, impet- 
uously. “ He is a white-haired old man — a man 
of sixty years, to whom her parents have sold 
her!” 

“But her husband is said to love his beautiful 
wife passionately.” 

“ Let him dare molest her with his love,” ex- 
claimed Napoleon, menacingly ; “ let him touch 
only with the tip of his finger this flower that I 
myself would have 1 She has not deserved the 
sorry fate of withering at the side of a decrepit 
old man ; she deserves to bloom at the heart of 
an emperor ! Oh, how beautiful she is 1 When I 
saw her, for the first time, at the ball in Warsaw, 
I fell in love with her, and felt that I must pos- 
sess her. Her light-colored hair was shining 
about her noble head like a halo ; heaven seemed 
to be reflected in her azure eyes, and the tinge of 
melancholy shading her fhce rendered her still 
more charming and seductive. She was an in- 
nocent victim of the selfishness of others ; I per- 
ceived it at a glance, and have loved her ever 
since. I took a secret oath to rescue her from her 
misery, and, by my love, to restore happiness to 
her ! And yet she disdains me, Duroc ! ” 

“No, sire, she does not disdain the exalted 
lover whom she worships ; she is not, however, a 
flirt, but a virtuous wife. She will not prove 
faithless to her husband ; she will not break the 
vows she took upon herself at the altar. She is 
engaged in a terrible struggle between duty and 
love, for your majesty knows very well that 
Madame de Walewska loves you ! ” 

“No, no, she does not love me,” exclaimed 
Napoleon, vehemently. “ If she really loved me, 
she would listen to no other voice than mine 1 I 
supplicated her with the whole strength of my 
affection — with all the anger of a spurned ad- 
mirer, with all the humility of a doting lover, but 
neither my anger nor my supplications were able 
to move her. And yet she asserts that she loves 
me ; she dares to say that she shares my passion ! 
Oh, she is a cold-hearted, cruel coquette ; it glad- 
dens her to behold my sufferings, and to play 
with my heart 1 ” 

“Sire, you are unjust,” exclaimed Duroc. “Ma- 
dame de Walewska is an angel of virtue and pu- 
rity; she would joyfully sacrifice her life to save 
your majesty a sigh ! ” 

; “ But she is unwilling to sacrifice to me this 
Chimera of virtue,” exclaimed Napoleon, “al- 
though she' has already disregarded it by loving 
me. She is not courageous enough to give up 


COUNTESS MARY WALEWSKA. 


the semblance after having already parted with 
the substance. Like all women she is timid, and 
incapable of a great resolution ! How many let- 
ters have I not written to her since I last saw her ! 
After the battle of Eylau — like a miserable ad- 
venturer — a knight-errant — I went in disguise to 
the village where she had at length promised to 
meet me at her brother’s house. What a wretch- 
ed rendezvous it was ! Nothing but a farewell 
scene ! She desires to go into a convent, and 
give her heart to God, because she is not allowed 
to give it to me. I am no Abelard, however, and 
do not want her to become a Heloise ! If she 
goes into a convent, I shall have its walls torn 
down, and the order she has joined abolished.” 

“ But she will not go into a convent, sire ; love 
will at last triumph over her virtue, and she will 
finally declare herself vanquished. She promised 
your majesty to defer the execution of her pur- 
pose for a year, but, I am sure, she will not be 
strong enough to close her heart so long against 
the passionate entreaties of a lover whom she 
adores. The letters which your majesty writes 
to her, and which she does not refuse to accept, 
are like hot shells thrown into the fortress of her 
heart. They do a great deal of mischief.” 

“ Forsooth, it is a consolation that she does 
not refuse my notes. I have sent them almost 
every day during two months ; every week I send 
a courier who meets her when, escaping from the 
Argus-eyes of her husband, she goes to the 
cathedral. But I receive only laconic replies. 
This woman is either incapable of genuine love, 
or she is a demon who delights in torturing me.” 

“Sire, does it please your majesty to partake 
of this fruit ? ” said a gentle voice behind him. 

The emperor started. Absorbed in his passion 
— ^filled with the idea now agitating his soul, 
he had not heard the door of the cabinet softly 
open, and was unaware that one of the imperial 
pages, holding a golden fruit-plate, had entered. 
Duroc also had not noticed that he was present 
while the emperor was still speaking, and that he 
must have overheard the last words of his ma- 
jesty. The page leaned, pale and exhausted, 
against the wall near the door, and the golden 
plate was trembling in his hands. 

Napoleon cast a glowing glance on him, and, 
rushing toward him, snatched the plate and threw 
it on the floor. As the peaches rolled across the 
room, he seized the page’s arms, and drew him 
toward the window. “ Who are you ? ” he asked, 
scarcely able to master his emotion. “ Who are 
you ? Speak, that I may hear your voice ! ” 

The page looked in bis face, aglow with anger, 
and his large blue eyes filled with tears. “ I am 


109 

a demon who delights in torturing you,” he said 
in a low voice. 

Napoleon did not utter a word. He tore the 
velvet cap from the page’s head, and when his 
long silken hair fell on his shoulders in heavy 
masses, a smile of unutterable bliss overspread 
the emperor’s face. He seized the fair ringlets 
with his hands and kissed them ; he laid them on 
his own head, and they covered his face like a 
golden veil. He then shook them off with a 
merry laugh, and encircled the page so violently 
in his arms, that he uttered a cry. “ Mary, Mary,” 
he exclaimed passionately, “ you are in my arms 
at last — you are here ! Duroc, just look at this 
wonderful page. Come here, and look at the 
angel I slandered just now ! ” 

But Duroc did not appear. He preferred to 
move quietly out of the room and to lock the door 
after him. Napoleon, therefore, was alone with 
his mjstress, and thanked Duroc in his heart for 
this discretion. He clasped the weeping and 
blushing lady in his arms, and tried with gentle 
force to remove her hands, in which she had buried 
her face. “ Mary,” he asked, in a tone of suppliant 
tenderness, “ Mary, you weep, and yet you say you 
love me ? ” 

“Yes, I do love you,” she exclaimed, sinking 
on her knees. “ I love you intensely ! Ah, have 
mercy on me ! Do not condemn me because I 
come hither in spite of my conscience and my 
honor! Napoleon, I have no longer any thing 
on earth but you 1 I have no longer a country, 
a family, a name 1 I gave up every thing for you 
— ^my life, my honor, my happiness, are yours ! 
Remember it, and do not despise me ! ” 

He raised her from her knees and pressed a 
kiss on her quivering lips. “Mary,” he said, 
“ this kiss shall have the same effect upon you as 
of old the gift of knighthood had on the warrior — 
it will impart to you a higher and more sacred life, 
and confer the highest honor on you ! Henceforth 
you are mine, and shall be as immortal as myself ; 
and when posterity mentions the name of the Em- 
peror Napoleon, it shall at the same time remem- 
ber his beautiful mistress, and repeat the name of 
Mary Walewska together with that of Jose- 
phine 1 ” 

“ Oh,” murmured Mary, “ you mention the 
noble and generous Empress Josephine, whom I 
worship, and against whom I am committing a 
crime ! May fate enable me to atone for my guilt 
one day by sacrificing my life for you, and by 
proving to you and to the world that I loved you 
truly and faithfully.” 

“ No, you shall live — live for me,” said Napo- 
leon, ardently ; “ do not complain any more. 


110 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


Mary ; dry your beautiful eyes. Come, sit down 
with me and tell me how it happened that you 
conquered your heart, and why I see you in this 
disguise ? ” He drew her to the divan and wound 
his arm around her waist. She laid her head on 
his shoulder, and gazed up to him with dreamy 
eyes. 

“ How it happened ? ” she asked. “ I cannot 
find words to tell you. I reenaeted the part of 
Penelope. Every night I tried to fasten a coat of 
mail around my heart — to protect it as with a net- 
work of virtue and duty. But your letters were 
the wooers that destroyed in the day the resolu- 
tions of the night. Tour complaints rent my 
heart ; your reproaches tortured my soul. I felt 
at last that I was irretrievably lost — that I loved 
you boundlessly, and that I was anxious to prove 
it to you. But my husband watched me with 
lynx-eyed vigilance ; he was constantly at my side, 
now threatening, in the fury of his jealousy, to as- 
sassinate me should I leave him, and now implor- 
ing me with tearful eyes to spare his honor and 
pity his love. I felt that I would have either to 
die, or renounce my married life, and enter upon a 
new existence — an existence of true happiness if 
you love me, but of suffering and self-reproach if 
you despise me ! ” 

“ I love you,” said Napoleon, with a proud and 
confident air. “ Proceed.” 

“ I have finished,” she said. “ My trusty lady’s 
maid prepared every thing for my escape, and 
four days ago, when my husband believed me at 
church, I and my maid entered a travelling-eoach 
and continued our journey day and night until we 
arrived at Castle Finkenstein.” 

“ And this disguise ? ” asked Napoleon, pointing 
at the costume she was wearing. 

Mary blushed and smiled. “ I had it made by 
a tailor at Warsaw, who prepared the suits the 
imperial pages wore at that ball. I had not suffi- 
cient courage to enter this castle as a lady, only 
men living in it at the present time. I desired to 
enter your room without recognition or insult. I 
left my carriage at the neighboring village, and 
walked hither on foot. At the castle-gate, I in- 
quired for Constant, your valet de chamhre, and 
requested the servants to call him. I confided 
my secret to him, and he conducted me to this 
room. And thus, my beloved friend, I am here ; 
I am lying at your feet, and imploring you to kill 
me if you do not love me, for I cannot live with- 
out your love ! ” She glided from the divan 
to the floor, and looked up to the emperor with 
clasped hands and imploring eyes. 

Napoleon bent over her and drew her smilingly 
into his arms. “ You shall live,” he said, “ for I 


love you, and pledge you my imperial word that I 
will never desert you ! ” 

— ♦ 


CHAPTEPv XXVI. 

THE DANTZIC CHOCOLATE. 

On the following day the emperor’s face did not 
retain a traee of the gloom which had filled his 
marshals with so much uneasiness. His features 
were radiant with happiness, and a strange fire 
was burning in his dark-blue eyes. He ordered 
his guard to be drawn up in line in the castle- 
yard, and to the delight of the soldiers it was an- 
nounced that Napoleon himself would command at 
the parade. Loud cheers and the constantly- 
repeated shout of “ Vive Vempereur ! ” received 
him when, surrounded by his marshals, and with a 
smiling face, he walked down the broad steps of 
the palace. 

“ These soldiers are foolish children,” said he, 
turning to Marshal Lannes. “ Why are they 
cheering incessantly, as if they had not seen me 
for a year ? Have I not been among them every 
day ? ” 

“ No, sire,” said the marshal, who had regained 
his former good- humor and merry face, “ no, sire ; 
those brave boys really have not seen your ma- 
jesty for a long while, and they are perfectly 
right to manifest their joy. The great Napoleon, 
whose face was our sun in so many battles and in 
so many countries, and whose smile, when we 
were hungry and thirsty, often satisfied our hun- 
ger and quenched our thirst, really was not here. 
In his place we have had during the last few 
weeks a grave and taciturn emperor, whom every 
one feared.” 

Napoleon laughed. “Were you also afraid, my 
old comrade ? ” he asked. 

“ I cannot say that I was,” said Lannes, gayly, 
“but, nevertheless, I feel to-day as though a 
heavy burden had been removed from my heart. 
I can breathe more freely, inasmuch as I have 
back my excellent Napoleon in place of that mo- 
rose emperor. The sun has risen once more for 
all of us ! ” 

“Was I really as you pretend? ” asked Napo- 
leon, who was always delighted at the unceremo- 
nious words of his old comrade, and who per- 
mitted to Lannes that bluntness which he would 
not have tolerated in another. 

The marshal bent closer to the emperors ear. 
“Sire, your majesty will permit me to tell you 


, THE DANTZIC CHOCOLATE. 


Ill 


that you were shockingly morose and surly. We 
were beginning to feel anxious and weary. But 
it is all over now, and when I look at you to-day 
my heart is as glad as that of a lover who sees his 
sweetheart after along separation. I should like 
to know what miracle has happened since yester- 
day, and what magician has arrived to dispel your 
discontent. I should be exceedingly grateful to 
your majesty if you would show him to me ! ” 

“ What an inquisitive fellow ! ” said the em- 
peror, turning his eyes involuntarily to the win- 
dow of the castle. He nodded almost impercep- 
tibly, and laid his hand on his heart for a moment. 
The marshal’s eyes had followed the glances of 
his master, and he beheld a strange object at one 
of the windows of the emperor’s rooms. The 
curtain was cautiously drawn aside, and the beau- 
tiful head bf a young lady was seen behind it. 

Mart de ma vie!" ejaculated Lannes, loudly 
and impetuously. 

“Well, what is the matter?” asked Napoleon, 
turning hastily to him. 

Lannes was still staring up at the window ; but 
the charming person had already disappeared, and 
the curtains were closed again. 

“ Sire,” faltered Lannes, in confusion, “ sire, I 
believe I myself am bewitched ; I beheld an ap- 
parition just now.” 

“ Did your good wife appear to you ? ” asked 
Napoleon, laughing. 

“ Would she were such a fair-haired angel ! ” 
exclaimed Lannes, heaving a sigh. “ But in that 
case, sire, I should very earnestly oppose her 
appearance at the windows of the imperial 
rooms — ” 

“ Hush, you old babbler ! ” said Napoleon, laugh- 
ing ; “ is it necessary, then, to confess every thing 
one has dreamed ? ” And, as he liked to do when 
in good-humor, he pulled the marshal’s ear so 
violently that Lannes made a very wry face. 

The emperor turned with a grave bearing to his 
soldiers, and the parade commenced. After it 
was over, he repaired to the castle, to work with 
his adjutant-general in his cabinet. Before doing 
so, however, he said to Marshal Lannes. “I 
wish you to dine with me to-day, and to-night I 
will play a game of vingt-et-un with you, Talley- 
rand, and Duroc ; I must get even with you for 
yesterday. Do not forget, marshal — we shall dine 
together to-day ! ” * 

“ Sire,” said Lannes, joyfully, “ were you to 
place a dish of the boiled ears of the Russians be- 
fore me, I would eat them with great relish if you 
look at me as kindly as you are doing now 1 ” 

Napoleon laughed and ascended the palace 
staircase. An hour later, a dusty carriage rolled 


into the yard of Castle Finkenstein. It was Mar- 
shal Lefebvre, who, agreeably to the emperor’s 
invitation, had arrived. The marshal felt some- 
what embarrassed and anxious. This order of 
Napoleon to set out immediately on receipt of the 
dispatch, and repair to his headquarters at Fin- 
kenstein, had filled the conqueror of Dantzic with 
some apprehension, lest the emperor had sum- 
moned him to rebuke him for having granted 
such honorable terms to the Prussian garrison, 
and for permitting them to march out with their 
arms, instead of making them prisoners of war. 
The marshal therefore entered the anteroom with 
a face somewhat pale, and requested the oflQcer in 
waiting to announce him. 

“ His majesty is at work in his cabinet,” said 
the officer. “ On such occasions no one is permit- 
ted to disturb him, unless he be a bearer of im- 
portant dispatches.” 

“ The emperor ordered me to report to him im- 
mediately on my arrival. Go, therefore, and an- 
nounce me.” The officer obeyed hesitatingly. 

Napoleon was seated at a desk covered with 
maps and papers. Pointing at a map spread out 
on the table, he was just turning eagerly to his 
adjutant-general, Marshal Berthier. “ Here — this 
is the point whither we have to drive the Rus- 
sians ; and there, on the banks of the Alle, they 
shall fearfully atone for the battle of Eylau. W ell,” 
he said, turning to the officer who had just en- 
tered, “ what do you want ? ” 

“ Sire, Marshal Lefebvre asks your majesty to 
grant him an audience. He says your majesty 
summoned him here from Dantzic.” 

“ He is right,” said Napoleon, “ and I am glad 
that the duke does not keep me in waiting. TeU 
the Duke of Dantzic that he is to dine with nie.” 

“Sire,” said the officer, “it is not a Duke of 
Dantzic, but Marshal Lefebvre, who applies for an 
audience.” 

The emperor darted one of his withering glances 
at him. “ It seems, sir,” he said gravely, “ that 
you deem me incapable of creating a duke. Go,” 
he added, “ and inform the duke of my invitation. 
In fifteen minutes we shall dine.” 

The officer returned to the anteroom. “ Well ? ” 
asked Lefebvre, quickly. “ Does the emperor 
await me ? May I enter ? ” 

“ Duke, his majesty invites you to dine with 
him, and requests you to wait only fifteen min- 
utes.” 

Lefebvre, in his confusion, had not heard the 
title by which he was addressed. His mind was 
absorbed in the single thought whether or not the 
emperor was angry with him. He wished these 
fifteen minutes to pass quickly, and yet his heart 


112 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


trembled at v\hat might be in store for him. Pre- 
cisely at the time appointed Grand Marshal Duroc 
entered to conduct Marshal Lefebvre to the dining- 
room. Lefebvre followed in silenee. The heart 
of the brave soldier beat more violently than it 
had ever done in the battle-field. 

The emperor had already taken his seat when 
Duroc and Lefebvre entered. Near him, behind 
their chairs, stood Marshal Lannes, the Prince de 
Benevento, and Marshal Berthier. Napoleon greet- 
ed Lefebvre with a friendly wave of his hand. 
“ Welcome, duke,” he exclaimed, “ sit down here 
at my side ! ” 

Lefebvre advanced and took the seat his majes- 
ty designated. The others sat down also. Din- 
ner commenced : Napoleon ate his soup in silence, 
as he always did. Fixing his eyes with a smiling 
expression on a large pie, in the shape of a fortress, 
that was standing before him, “ Do you recognize 
this, Duke of Dantzic ? ” he asked. 

Lefebvre heard the ducal title this time, and 
looked bewildered at the emperor, whose anger he 
still feared. “Did your majesty speak to me? ” 
he asked, bashfully. 

“ To be sure ; did I not address you with the 
title of Duke of Dantzic ? ” replied Napoleon, 
laughing. “ Well, tell me, now, do you know the 
fortress which this pie is intended to represent ? ” 

“ I believe,” said the new duke, “ the fortress 
of Dantzic.” 

“ See, gentlemen, how familiar the duke is with 
his dear Dantzic,” exclaimed Napoleon. “ It is 
true, he ought to know it, for he had to take ex- 
traordinary pains to reduce it. Now let us eat 
little Dantzic as Lefebvre ate big Dantzic a few 
days ago.” 

The steward took the pie and presented it to the 
emperor. “ Oh, no,” said Napoleon, with a pleas- 
ant smile ; “ Duke of Dantzic, it behooves you to 
carve it, for it is your conquest.” 

Lefebvre’s face beamed with joy, and he thanked 
the emperor with a grateful look. “Sire,” he 
said, almost solemnly, plunging his knife into the 
pie, “ I should like to be commissioned soon by 
your majesty to take another fortress. . I should 
then remember this hour, and take it by assault or 
die ! ” 

“ Ah, you will not die so soon,” exclaimed Na- 
poleon ; “ let us take this fortress by assault. 
The Duke of Dantzic having opened the first 
breach, we ■will boldly follow.” Turning to Le- 
febvre : “ Do you like to eat chocolate, duke ? ” he 
asked. 

Lefebvre looked at him, amazed at the strange 
■question. “ I do not know,” he faltered, “ I be- 
lieve I like it.” 


“Well, then, I will give you a pound of Dantzic 
chocolate,” said the emperor, smiling, “ for as you 
took that city it is but equitable that you should 
receive a little souvenir of it. Roustan, bring me 
the small package lying on my desk.” 

Roustan, who at dinner always stood behind 
the emperor’s chair, soon returned 'W’ith a small 
oblong package. Napoleon took it, and, handing 
it to Lefebvre, said, “ Take this, duke — small gifts 
keep up friendly feelings.” 

Lefebvre took the package, and, warmly thank- 
ing the emperor, put it into his pocket. A few 
minutes afterward Napoleon rose from the ta- 
ble. 

“ Sire,” said Marshal Lannes, approaching him, 
“your majesty, perhaps, does not know all my 
failings. You are not aware that I am very in- 
quisitive, and withal very fond of sweet things. 
Now I am anxious to know whether Dantzic choco- 
late is as good as Paris chocolate — I should like 
to taste it. Will not your majesty be so kind as to 
order the Duke of Dantzic to open his package of 
chocolate and let us taste it ? ” 

Napoleon laughed. “ Why, I cannot order him 
to give away what I have just given him,” he 
said. “ But a glance at the outside may show you 
whether it is good or not. If he will open it and 
let you see it, I have no objection.” 

The duke took the package from his pocket ; 
he himself was desirous to discover what it con- 
tained ; Lannes, Duroc, Talleyrand, and Berthier, 
surrounded him. The emperor stood at some dis- 
tance, and looked smilingly at the group. Lefe- 
bvre broke the string and unfolded the wrapper. 
It contained nothing but a number of small printed 
papers; but these were valuable, being bank- 
notes to the amount of a hundred thousand dol- 
lars. Lefebvre, overjoyed, looked at the emperor. 
Duroc and Talleyrand smiled also, but Lannes ex- 
claimed in a loud voice, “ Forsooth, I should also 
like to have a pound of this Dantzic chocolate I* 
Sire, is there not somewhere another Prussian 
fortress manufacturing such an excellent article ? 
Send me thither, and, I pledge you my word, I 
shall get my chocolate ! ” 

' Napoleon shrugged his shoulders. “No,” he 
said, “ there are really no Prussian fortresses that 
we can take ; all are in our hands ; only Colberg 
and Graudenz are holding out, and who knows how 
soon' they will surrender? You will have no 
chance to obtain your chocolate in Prussia, Lannes, 


* This scene Is strictly historical. The army knew in 
what manner the emperor had rewarded Marshal Lefebvre, 
and it became a cant-phrase for soldiers who wished to 
borrow money of their comrades : “ Have you any Dantzic 
chocolate ? ” 


THE DANTZIC CHOCOLATE. 


113 


but I will give you and all my marshals an oppor- 
tunity, I hope, on the battle-field.” 

“Ah,” they exclaimed in joyful chorus, “then 
there will be a battle soon ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Napoleon, gravely. “Let the fall 
of Dantzic be only a signal of fresh victories for 
us ! The time of inaction is past. Let us invite 
the Emperor of Russia to a war-dance on the ter- 
ritory of his ally the King of Prussia. Possibly, 
the beautiful queen may take part in it, for she is 
said to be a fine dancer, and to have delighted the 
young officers of the guard at the balls given in 
the palace of Berlin. She is, moreover, a heroine, 
who, when her king had an army, witnessed the 
parades of the troops in the costume of an Amazon. 
I am, indeed, inquisitive, like Marshal Lannes — 
not, however, as to the quality of the chocolate, 
but as to this queen, who is said to be the most 
beautiful and amiable woman of all Germany. I 
am desirous to find out whether the rumor is true, 
and to see her face to face. But in order to do so 
8 


a battle — a victory is necessary. Afterward I 
shall invite her to meet me, and I suppose she will 
bow to the conqueror of her country, notwithstand- 
ing her pride, and accept the invitation. Ah, she 
shall accustom herself to recognize me, whom she 
calls a usurper, as emperor, and peer of other 
sovereigns. Gentlemen, I count on your active co- 
operation. You, marshals, and my brave army, 
are to be the postilions d'amour^ to conquer fca* 
me an interview with the beautiful queen ! You 
are to wake up the Russians from their winter 
sleep, and bring them our morning greeting with 
cannon! All the preparations are completed. 
The Confederation of the Rhine, Italy, Spain, and 
France, have furnished us with troops, and we 
have now two hundred thousand enthusiastic and 
invincible soldiers, while Russia and Prussia 
together are scarcely possessed of half as many. 
They are, moreover, exhausted and demoralized. 
Let us .renew the struggle ; and when I say strug- 
gle, it means victory 1 ” 


BOOK III 



CHAPTEB XXVII. 

TILSIT. — NAPOLEON AND ALEXANDER. 

A CRY of dismay resounded in the camp of the 
Prussians and Kussians — of exultation in that of 
the French. Another battle had been fought, 
and Napoleon had won a brilliant victory. On 
the 14th of June, 1807, a decisive action had 
taken place between the French and the united 
army — the battle of Friedland had gained Napo- 
leon a new laurel-wreath, and brought an over- 
whelming defeat upon unhappy Prussia. The 
Eussians, enraged at the loss of the battle, furious- 
ly denounced Prussia, for the sake of which Kus- 
sia had been involved in this war ; they asked 
the Emperor Alexander to put an end to the dis- 
astrous and self-sacrificing war by making peace 
with France. 

The same measure was urged by the adherents 
of the French party in the camp and in the suite 
of King Frederick William. They asserted that 
only unconditional submission, however humili- 
ating it might be, could save what was still to be 
saved ; that the king ought to throw himself at 
the feet of the victor of Friedland and implore 
^ him to restore his crown. Such was the advice 
of the discouraged and despairing — of those who 
always had regarded the war against France as a 
fatal mistake, and who now, amidst the general 
consternation, were overjoyed that their predic- 
tions had been fulfilled. 

** Peace ! peace with France ! ” was the cry 
resounding in the ears of the Emperor Alexander 
and of King Frederick William. Alexander prom- 
ised that he would comply with the request. Fred- 
erick 'William listened to it in sullen silence. The 
queen, who had remained at Memel, and was no 
longer with her husband, veiled her head and wept. 

But Napoleon triumphantly thanked his army 
for this new and decisive victory. 


“ Soldiers,” he said, “ we are victorious. Oa 
the 5th of June we were attacked in our canton- 
ments by the Kussian army. The enemy had 
mistaken our inactivity. He perceived too late 
that our repose was that of the lion : he repents 
of having disturbed it. In the battles of Gutt- 
stadt and Heilsberg, and in that ever-memorable 
one of Friedland, in a campaign of ten days, we 
have taken one hundred and twenty pieces of 
cannon, and seven colors. The killed, wounded, 
or made prisoners, are sixty thousand Kussians. 
We have taken all the magazines, hospitals, am- 
bulances, the fortress of Kdnigsberg, the three 
hundred vessels which were in that port, laden 
with military stores, and one hundred and sixty 
thousand muskets, which England had sent to 
arm our enemies. 

“ From the Vistula to the Niemen we have 
come with the flight of the eagle. You celebrated 
at Austerlitz the anniversary of the coronation ; 
this year, you celebrate that of tho battle of Ma- 
rengo, which put an end to the war of the second 
coalition. 

“ Frenchmen, you have been worthy of your- 
selves and of me. You will return to France 
crowned with laurels, and, after obtaining a glori- 
ous peace, which carries with it the guaranty of 
its duration, it is high time for our country to 
repose, protected from the malignant influence of 
England. My bounties shall prove to you my 
gratitude, and the extent of the love I feel for 
you.” 

Napoleon thus promised peace to his army, while 
thanking it for the new victory. And he had a 
right to do so, for peace and its conditions were 
now in his grasp. Alexander and Frederick Wil- 
liam felt this, and hence they were under the ne- 
cessity of making advances to the conqueror ; 
they were obliged to sacrifice their pride and to 
conciliate their powerful enemy. Frederick W'il- 
liam was still hesitating. The tears of his wife, 



31 -St* 


* 



OV AN^ * ’ AjfDK!! 



NAPOLEON AND ALEXANDER. 


115 


the prayers and remonstrances of Hardenberg re- 
strained him ; he was unwilling to listen to the 
urgent appeals of Generals von Kockeritz and 
Zastrow, and of Field-Marshal von Kalkreuth, 
who, now that Dantzic had fallen, believed un- 
conditional submission to be the only means of 
safety. 

Alexander determined first on taking a decisive 
step. On the 24th of June he sent Prince Laba- 
nofif to the victor of Friedland, and expressed his 
desire for an interview with him, Napoleon com- 
plied with this request, and sent Grand-Marshal 
Duroc to the Emperor Alexander to inform him 
that he would meet him on the following day, the 
25th of June, at noon. But the two emperors 
did not wish to see each other on a soil red with 
the blood .of their soldiers, nor were the peace 
negotiations to be held on a territory hostile to 
the Emperor of the French. A river, whose 
waves buried in their depths the reminiscences 
of the past, was to be the neutral place of their 
meeting. 

It was a clear midsummer-day ; the earth was 
clad in the freshest verdure ; not a cloud floated 
in the sky ; not a breath of wind stirred the air, 
or ruffled the limpid waters of the Niemen. The 
river was silent, as though it was conscious of its 
importance, and felt that a great historical event 
was to take place on its tranquil surface. A large 
raft was moored by General Lariboissi^re, of the 
artillery, equidistant from and within sight of 
both banks. A pavilion was constructed with 
all the rich stuffs to be procured in the little town 
of Tilsit, for the reception of the two monarchs. 
This gorgeous pavilion seemed a palace descended 
from some fairy realm, and thousands of specta- 
tors gazed at it in surprise. 

The two armies were ranged along the Niemen, 
their arms and uniforms flashing in the sun. On 
one bank were the lifeguards of Alexander, with 
their bearded faces and savage features ; on the 
other, the guards of Napoleon, with their scarred 
faces, telling the story of many a victory. In the 
rear of the soldiers were thousands more, who 
had hastened to the banks of the Niemen to wit- 
ness the interview of the two emperors. Shouts, 
laughter, and songs, resounded on both sides ; 
the air was filled with a humming sound as from 
two immense swarms of bees. At times, greet- 
ings were sent across the river in a language 
mutually unintelligible. Suddenly, all this noise 
died away; the guards on both sides presented 
arms; the drums were beaten, and the bands 
played the national hymns of Russia and France. 
Amidst these jubilant notes the two emperors 
with their brilliant suites approached. 


That small, vigorous man, whose delicate 
hand is holding firmly the bridle of his spirited 
white charger — he with the pale face and expan- 
sive forehead, crowned with light-brown hair; 
with impenetrable features, a cold, compressed 
mouth, and large, gloomy eyes — that man is Na- 
poleon, Emperor of the French. Duroc, Berthier, 
Bessi^res, and Caulaincourt, form his suite, and 
follow him at a full gallop to the bank of the 
river. 

That slender young man on the richly capar- 
isoned black horse — that tall figure with smiling 
and handsome face, full of vigor, health, and 
vivacity — with soft, restless features ; blue eyes 
radiant with enthusiasm, and crimson lips — is 
Alexander, Emperor of Russia. The Graud-duko 
Constantine, Generals Benningsen and Ouwaroff, 
Prince Labanoff, and Count Lieven, accompany 
him. ^ 

Thh two emperors dismount at the same time, 
and embark with their suites in the gondolas that 
are to convey them to the pavilion. The oarsmen 
keep time with their oars and the boats approach 
each other, reaching simultaneously the two stair- 
cases leading from the platform to the water. 
The two monarchs disembark at the same moment. 
Alexander and Napoleon stand face to face. For 
a moment they look at each other with inquiring 
glances, and then embrace in the most cordial 
manner. 

This testimony of a frank reconciliation excited 
vehement applause among the spectators who 
lined the river ; the French as well as the Rus- 
sians stretched out their arms toward their newly- 
won friends on the other bank. “ Peace ! ” shout- 
ed thousands. “ Hail, ye friends and brethren ! 
our enmity is over ; our emperors have affection- 
ately embraced each other, and like them th^ 
subjects will meet in love and peace ! No more 
shedding of blood ! Peace ! peace ! ” The music 
joined with the exultant cries of the two nations, 
and the emperors stepped, keeping time with the 
bands, through the doors leading into the pavil- 
ion. They were alone. Only the eye of God could 
behold them. For a few moments they stood 
face to face, silent, ahd undecided which of them 
was to speak first, while the echoes of the mur 
sic penetrated the heavily-curtained walls of the 
pavilion. Each of them seemed to be anxious to 
read the thoughts of the other in his face, and to 
look into the depths of his soul. 

Napoleon’s sonorous voice was the first to break 
the silence. “ Why are we at war ? ” he asked 
with an inimitable smile, offering his hand to 
Alexander. 

“ It is true,” exclaimed Alexander, as if awak- 


116 


NAPOLEOJ^ AKD QUEEN LOUISA. 


ing from a dream ; “ why are we at war ? If 
your grudge is against England, and against her 
alone — if your majesty hates me only because I 
am the friend of that country, I can sever the al- 
liance, and we shall easily agree, for I have as 
much reason to complain of her as you have, and 
shall readily support you in every thing your 
majesty may decide upon undertaking against 
her.” 

“ In that case,” said Napoleon, quickly, “ every 
thing can be arranged, and peace is a matter of 
certainty. England alone stood between us— per- 
fidious, egotistic England, that is always interest- 
ed only for herself, and is ready at any time to 
sacrifice her faithful and generous allies ! ” 

“ I have allowed England to deceive me a long 
while,” exclaimed Alexander, vehemently ; “ for I 
once regarded that nation of traders as a nation of 
men, heroes, and profound diplomatists. But I 
was terribly undeceived. Those selfish shop- 
keepers amused me with fair but false promises ; 
they care neither for my welfare nor for that of 
Europe, but only for their commerce. The ego- 
tism of Great Britain is equalled only by her nar- 
row-minded avarice. I asked the British cabinet 
to guarantee a Russian loan, and they were im- 
pudent enough to refuse me, although they knew 
very well that I wished to negotiate it for the sole 
purpose of equipping an army, with which I in- 
tended to take the field more in the interest of 
England and Prussia, than in that of Russia. 
Faithful to my word, and to the treaties I had 
concluded, I nevertheless equipped my army and 
marched it into the field in order to join them. 
But where were my allies? Prussia could not 
add to my forces a single army, but a few corps, 
utterly demoralized by their misfortunes, and the 
assistance promised by England came so late that 
if failed in saving Dantzic. The English had 
taken their own time in appearing before that 
fortress ; they had other matters to attend to in 
the Baltic ; they had to make money by hunting 
up the merchant-vessels of other nations, and, in 
their brutality and avarice, they did not shrink 
from laying their rapacious hands even upon Rus- 
sian ships ! But while the English were taking 
unarmed vessels, and calculating their profits, and 
the Prussians were bewailing their misfortunes 
and dressing their wounds, I alone had to wage 
war and ingloriously to shed the blood of my poor 
soldiers for a cause that was hardly the cause of 
Russia. Ah, sire, I shall never forgive England 
for deserting me in the hour of danger, and for 
basely deceiving me by false promises ! ” 

While Alexander was speaking, Napoleon had 
steadfastly fixed his eyes on him ; he had looked 


through the restless, quivering face of the youth- 
ful emperor, into the recesses of his heart ; and 
while Alexander, wholly absorbed in his wrongs, 
and alternately blushing and turning pale with 
indignation and grief, was uttering his reproaches, 
Napoleon said to himself, “ Two sentiments of the 
speaker are predominant, and ought, therefore, to 
be flattered; spleen against allies, burdensome 
like Prussia, or selfish like England ; and a very 
sensitive and deeply mortified pride. I must 
profit by them.” 

As soon as Alexander paused, Napoleon said in 
a mournful voice: “Your allies have taken ad- 
vantage of your magnanimity, sire ! They knew 
very well that the heir of Peter the Great was 
also the heir of his fiery spirit, and that it was 
only necessary to talk of a field of battle, and let 
him hear a warlike flourish, to make him draw 
the sword. Ah, sire, why was I not so fortunate 
as to be at your side ? Why did we not take 
the field together ! What heroic deeds would you 
have already performed ! What laurels would 
not now adorn a head designed by Providence to 
wear them ! It was your majesty’s misfortune 
that you were united with allies who duped you 
for their own purposes — they were a king without 
a country and without soldiers, and a nation com- 
posed of greedy traders and stock-brokers, calcu- 
lating whether glory would be profitable to them 
in pounds, shillings, and pence; and whether 
stocks would not fall if they fulfilled their en- 
gagements. Tour majesty alone displayed noble- 
ness, energy, and courage, in this triumvirate; 
but your friends were unworthy of your honor- 
able conduct. Your majesty’s mistake is to be 
solely attributed to generous sentiments carried to 
excess, and to misconceptions to which ministers, 
incompetent and bribed, have given rise. You 
were wrong to persist in patronizing ungrateful and 
jealous neighbors like the Germans ; or in serv- 
ing the interests of mere traders, like the English. 
God and history have intrusted a much more ex- 
alted task to you, and for this purpose such large 
and warlike forces have been given you. I and 
my marshals, I can assure you, are filled with ad- 
miration at the bravery of your soldiers, every one 
of whom fought like a hero.” 

“ Ah,” exclaimed Alexander, “ this praise ut- 
tered by you, sire, is a balm for my wounds ! ” 

Napoleon laid his band softly on the shoulder 
of the young emperor, and looked him full in the 
face. “ Sire,” he said, “if we were to unite these 
two armies, which fought so valiantly against one 
another at Austerlitz, at Eylau, at Friedland, but 
who behaved like giants fighting blindfold — if we 
were to take the field hand in hand at their 


NAPOLEON AND ALEXANDER. 


117 


head, we might divide the world between us, for 
its own peace and welfare. By waging war with 
France, Russia is spending her strength without 
any possible compensation ; whereas, if the two 
unite in subjecting the East and the West, on land 
and sea, she would gain as much glory, and cer- 
tainly more profit. Yes, sire, you would attain 
the glory which you have hitherto been vainly 
seeking with those who led you into a path in 
which you have met with nothing but defeats and 
disappointments. Heaven intended, perhaps, that 
you should pass through a school of sufiering to 
make you see your false friends in their true 
character, and then cause you to turn to new 
friendships with the whole strength of your heroic 
soul. Sire, I offer you my hand, and, if you will 
accept it, I will lead you into a career as brilliant 
as the star-spangled firmament, and as fragrant as 
the laurels of the south. You shall see at least 
half the world at your feet. Sire, will you follow 
me? ” 

He fixed his fascinating glance on Alexander, 
and an unearthly radiance seemed to beam from 
his countenance. Alexander, dazzled by his as- 
pect — carried away by the vigor of his language, 
and flattered also by hearing Napoleon give ut- 
terance to reflections on his allies which' so well 
agreed with his own secret thoughts, extended his 
hands toward Napoleon. 

Here I am,” he exclaimed, “ lead me ! Show 
me the career I am to pursue ! ” 

Napoleon hastily seized the proffered hands, and, 
shaking them cordially, said with an energy which 
caused Alexander’s heart to flutter, “Come, the 
world is ours ! ” He conducted Alexander quickly 
and silently to the round-table in the middle of 
the pavilion, on which several rolls of paper were 
lying. Unfolding the largest, and spreading it on 
the table, he said, “ Sire, look here. This is a 
map of the world. There is Asia, which is placed 
at the side of Russia, like a pillow on which to rest 
your head ; there is Persia, with her treasures ; 
the vast Chinese empire, with its industry and 
commerce ; there is Hindostan, with her immense 
wealth, and a population sighing for deliverance 
from the British yoke. Here below you behold 
Africa, with her dreary deserts, and the three 
Barbary states, which lately again plundered 
French vessels, and upon which I have sworn to 
inflict summary punishment. I shall not now 
speak of America and Australia. That is a world 
which has first to pass through the children’s 
disease of republicanism ; after it has recov- 
ered from it, both of us will be ready to inocu- 
late it with monarchical principles. But here is 
Europe! Your majesty, look at this motley 


chaos of colors and states, of big and little thrones, 
lying between France and Russia. We are their 
bulwarks on the east and west; why should we 
not rule over them? We are able to do so by 
joining hands over the heads of all these states. 
If Russia desires to be the sincere ally of France, 
nothing will be more easy ; we shall change the 
face of this part of Europe ; we shall break the 
chains separating these states and nations from 
each other in the east as well as in the west. 
There will be but one shepherd and one flock, and 
the Emperor of the Occident and the Emperor of 
the Orient will give laws to the world 1 ” 

“Ah,” exclaimed Alexander, enthusiastically, 
“ the will of my ancestor, Peter the Great, re- 
vives in the mouth of Napoleon the Great ! ” 

Napoleon sr^iled. “And what Catharine the 
Great planned,” he said, “ will be accomplished 
by Alexander the Great — the consolidation of the 
empire of the East I Sire, a courier brought me 
important news this morning. My ally and friend, 
Sultan Selim, has been hurled from his throne by 
the daggers of conspirators. His overthrow has 
just set me at liberty in regard to my alliance 
with the Porte.” 

“I also heard this intelligence to-day,” said 
Alexander, smiling ; “ the sultan’s throne is va- 
cant ; Turkey awaits a new sovereign.” 

“ Yes,” exclaimed Napoleon, “ but it is not 
necessary that this sovereign should be a Mussul- 
man. The crescent on St. Sophia’s accuses the 
Christian powers of cowardice and perfidy, and it 
is time to reestablish the cross on it. I did think 
that one might make something of those Turks, 
restore to them some energy, teach them to make 
use of their national courage ; but it was an illu- 
sion. It is time to put an end to an empire 
which can no longer hold together, and to prevent 
its spoils from contributing to increase the power 
of England. I ask but a small part of Turkey for 
myself; she is too remote from France, she does 
not belong to the empire of the Occident. But I 
remember that Catharine the Great had placed 
her on the map of the new world she was con- 
structing, and I read in the eyes of your majesty 
that you have not forgotten that map 1 ” 

“ Sire, you not only read in my eyes, but you 
look also into my heart ! ” exclaimed Alexander ; 
“ like a magician, you lay your hands on the se- 
crets of my thoughts, that never found words ; 
you teach them to assume a definite shape, and 
impart the faculty of speech to them.” 

“ I show you the way of glory, which your al- 
lies had taken pains to conceal,” said Napoleon, 
smiling. “ Your majesty anxiously desires to see 
it, and those perfidious men tried to mislead you. 


118 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


The port-al opens to you now, sire, and I already 
behold the noble Alexander entering it.” 

“ Oh,” murmured Alexander, placing his hands 
on his head, “my brain turns dizzy; it seems to 
me as though it were on fire,” 

“Sire,” exclaimed Napoleon, in a powerful 
voice, “ we are destined to give everlasting peace 
to the world, and woe to those who try to hinder 
us ! England would like to do so as to myself, 
and Turkey desires as much in regard to you. 
Sire, let us unite, therefore, against these two 
enemies, and give efl&ciency to our alliance. We 
must enlarge our territory. I see in the north an 
obstacle to your progress ; Sweden is watching 
your majesty with a jealous eye, and will regard 
an alliance with me as a declaration of war. Well, 
then, wage war against Sweden ! ” 

“Sire,” said Alexander, in dismay, and con- 
fused by those novel ideas passing so brilliantly 
before him, “ the King of Sweden is my brother- 
in-law and ally !” 

“ For that reason, let him follow the changes of 
your policy,” replied Napoleon, “ or let him take 
the consequences. Sweden may be an ally for the 
moment, but she is your geographical enemy. 
St. Petersburg is too near the frontiers of Finland. 
The fair Kussians of St. Petersburg must not again 
hear from their palaces the cannon of the Swedes. 
Proclaim war against the Swedish king, and take 
Finland as a compensation. And as you must be 
strong in the south as well as in the north, take 
also at once some portion of the provinces of the 
Danube. However, as it is probable that the 
Turks will not give up any thing, let us wage war 
against them. I will assist you, and afterward the 
partition will take place. Look here,” added Na- 
poleon, quickly, drawing with his finger a line 
across the map, “this is the inheritance that 
Tm'key will leave us. You take Bessarabia, Mol- 
davia, Wallachia, and Bulgaria, as far as the Bal- 
kan. I should naturally wish for the maritime 
provinces, such as Albania, Thessaly, Morea, and 
Candia. It is true Austria would object to such 
an arrangement, but we should offer her indemni- 
ties in Bosnia and Servia, to be made the appanage 
of one of her archdukes. I have thus laid before 
you a rapid sketch of our new world, sire ; the 
question now is whether you like it — what you 
think of it.” 

“Your majesty,” exclaimed Alexander, enthu- 
siastically, “ I feel like a man who has looked at 
the sun, and whose eyes are dazzled. But I shall 
become accustomed to this brilliant light, and then 
. be able to look more reasonably at the wonderful 
picture which your majesty has unrolled. But, 
then, I shall need your explanations and assist- 


ance, and I therefore request you not to let to- 
day’s interview be the last, but rather the com- 
mencement of many happy hours ! ” 

“We have to settle many things yet,” said Na- 
poleon, gravely ; “ it is, therefore, my heart-felt 
desire that we see each other as often as possible ; 
hence, I should like to ask a favor of your ma- 
jesty.” 

“Ah, sire, then you will overwhelm me with 
kindness,” exclaimed Alexander ; “ will you per- 
mit me, your vanquished foe, to confer a favor 
upon you ? ” 

“ I should like to request your majesty to leave 
the miserable hamlet where you are now living, 
and establish yourself in the little town of Tilsit. 
It is true I am residing there, and I am said to be 
your enemy ; but we may neutralize the town, that 
your majesty may be there also, and that I may 
be so happy as to see you every day.” 

“ Sire, I shall transfer my quarters to Tilsit in 
the course of the day,” replied Alexander, joy- 
fully. 

“ But I have made only half my request. It is 
not enough for you to reside at Tilsit ; you must 
also live there. I have been informed that your 
household is not with you. I, therefore, ask your 
majesty to let me be your host, and to permit me 
to receive you as a guest at my table.” 

“I accept your hospitality,” said Alexander, 
smiling. “ I hope it will be the beginning of a true 
and lasting friendship. But,” he added, in an 
embarrassed manner, “ I have to ask a favor of 
you. Sire, when I accept your generous hospital- 
ity, it must extend to the unfortunate King of 
Prussia. He is my ally ; in an hour of rashness 
and sentimental enthusiasm, perhaps, I swore 
faithful and lasting friendship to him.” 

“ At the tomb of Frederick the Great, in pres- 
ence of the beautiful queen,” said Napoleon, 
shrugging his shoulders. “ It was the dream of 
a generous heart, sire.” 

“But I must realize at least a part of this 
dream, sire. The King of Prussia is with me at 
my headquarters ; he is waiting for the decision 
of his fate.” 

“ He has brought it upon himself ; let him bear 
it now,” exclaimed Napoleon, sternly. “ I do not 
expect, hope, or ask any thing of him. He is 
able neither to help nor to injure me. The 
waves of his destiny are rolling over him; they 
will engulf him, and I do not mean to save 
him.” 

“But I do,” exclaimed Alexander; “I must, 
for my honor is at stake. I cannot allow the 
king to be utterly ruined without dishonoring my- 
self. Before passing from one system of politics 


QUEEN LOUISA. 


119 


to another, it is incumbent upon me to secure my 
ally and to protect his crown.” 

“ His estates belong to me ; as to his crown, I 
will leave it to him,” said Napoleon, carelessly. 
“ Let him reside at Memel and review there his 
fifteen thousand soldiers. But I comprehend why 
you in your generosity intercede for him, and 
refuse to abandon him. Tell me, therefore, your 
majesty, what I am to do for the King of Prus- 
sia.” 

“ Above all, sire, I request you to receive him, 
and to let him lay his wishes and demands before 
you.” 

“Well, then,” said Napoleon, “I request your 
majesty to appear with the King of Prussia here 
in tliis pavilion to-morrow. Let him participate 
in our interview. Although he has so long been 
an implacable enemy of mine, I shall willingly 
yield him as much as possible, but I do so only 
for your majesty’s sake ; it is a sacrifice I make 
to your honor and magnanimity. Be kind enough 
to remember this. Sire, I might dissolve Prussia, 
and cause her to disappear forever. I shall 
permit her to remain a state, because your ma- 
jesty desires me. But it is true I cannot grant 
her the old frontiers ; she will have to sacrifice 
much in order to retain something.” 

“ She will be content with this something,” ex- 
claimed Alexander. “Your majesty will confer 
with the king himself as to the extent of his future 
states.” 

“ You wish me to do so. The King of Prussia, 
therefore, may have a part in our negotiations,” 
said Napoleon. “ That is to say, in the official 
negotiations, but not in our confidential interviews. 
— You and I,” he added, “ can understand each 
other better if we treat directly than by employ- 
ing our ministers, who frequently deceive or mis- 
understand us ; and we shall advance business 
more in an hour than our negotiators in days. 
Between you and me there must be no third per- 
son, if we are to accomplish our purpose.” 

“ No one shall be between us,” said Alexander, 
delighted at so skilful a flattery. The two sover- 
eigns then walked hand in hand to the doors of 
the pavilion, 

“ To-morrow, then,” said Napoleon, with a 
gentle nod. 

“ To-morrow, I and the King of Prussia will be 
here,” said Alexander, with a smile. 

Both emerged from the pavilion. The guards 
and the people received them again with shouts in 
which the bands joined. Alexander turned to the 
Grand-duke Constantine, his brother, and seizing 
his hand to introduce him to Napoleon, he ex- 
claimed enthusiastically, “ What a man ! what a 


genius ! Ah, my brother, had I but known him 
sooner, how many blunders he might have spared 
me ! What great things we might have accom- 
plished together ! ” 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

QUEEN LOUISA. 

While Frederick William repaired with Alex- 
ander to the headquarters of the army, the queen 
and her faithful attendants remained at Memel. 
There she received the news of the battle of 
Friedland, and bewailed the misfortunes and dis- 
grace of Prussia. The king was not with her, to 
comfort her ; he was still at the mill of Puktu- 
pbhnen, where, after the disastrous battle, he and 
the Emperor Alexander had retired. Alexander 
had left for Tilsit. The king had refused to ac- 
company him, preferring to remain at his humble 
lodgings, far from the proud conqueror. While 
Alexander was the perpetual companion of Napo- 
leon, a daily guest at his table, without returning 
this hospitality, indulging with him in fantastic 
dreams about the future political system of the 
world, Frederick William pursued his lonely path 
gravely and silently, only looking for means to re- 
lieve as much as possible the sufferings his sub- 
jects were undergoing, and, by remonstrances and 
arguments, trying to protect his monarchy from 
utter destruction. 

Never did Frederick William stoop to flatter 
his enemy — never did he bow to him in hypocrit- 
ical submission. He could not help treating him 
as the conqueror of his states, but he refused to 
degrade himself by base servility. His first in- 
terview with Napoleon was short, and not very 
pleasant. Frederick William tried to prove to 
his adversary that it was he who had brought 
about the war by invading the territory of An- 
spach, and thereby compelling Prussia to declare 
war. Napoleon listened to this charge, shrugged 
his shoulders, and merely replied that the cabinet 
of Berlin, often warned to beware of the intrigues 
of England, had committed the fault of not listen- 
ing to his friendly counsel, and that to this cause 
alone were to be ascribed the disasters of Prussia. 
Since then, Frederick William, like Alexander, 
was a daily guest at Napoleon’s table, but he sat 
there in silence, sad, and absorbed in his reflec- 
tions, taking but little part in the conversation, 
and, when he did so, assuming a cold, formal 
manner, while Alexander and Napoleon chatted 
unreservedly and pleasantly. 


120 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


The king had also been constantly at the side 
of the two emperors in their long rides, and at 
the reviews, but always as an ominous shadow in 
the light of their new friendship — always as the 
mournful and warning spirit of memories which 
Alexander would have forgotten, because now 
they were a reproaeh and an accusation against 
him. And Frederick William took no pains to 
palliate this reproach, or to disguise his sadness" 
with a veil of politeness. Abrupt in his whole 
bearing, he did not condescend for a moment to 
play the part of courtier. Accompanying the em- 
perors, the king was by no means ready to com- 
ply with their whims ; if they wished to ride at a 
full gallop, he moved only at a quick trot, and 
politeness compelled them to remain with him. 
When they returned from their excursions, Napo- 
leon and Alexander vaulted quickly from their 
horses, and walked hand-in-hand toward the door, 
but Frederick William alighted slowly, and thus 
obliged Napoleon, .whose guest he was, to wait 
for him. The king frequently made his crowned 
companions stand, regardless of the rain ; and it 
happened more than once that the emperors, 
while waiting for him, were thoroughly drenched. 
When he was conferring with Napoleon as to the 
future frontiers of his states, Frederick William 
did not assume a suppliant tone, but spoke with 
the bearing of an incensed and insulted sovereign, 
whom his adversary was robbing of his rights, and 
who scarcely succeeded in restraining his indig- 
nation. • ■ 

And the king had sufficient reasons to be sad 
and irritable. He saw that the storm which had 
so long cast its bolts upon Prussia, would utterly 
destroy her. Napoleon was about to revenge 
himself for the unpleasant hours she had latterly 
caused him. He was willing, indeed, as he had 
pledged himself to Alexander, to leave Frederick 
William his crown, but he did not intend to re- 
store him his states. He needed Prussia for the 
new kingdom of Westphalia, and for rewarding 
his friends and allies. The king was to retain 
nothing but a small part of the province of Prus- 
sia, and Konigsberg was to be his capital. 

Frederick William, stricken by this new and 
terrible humiliation menacing him, looked anx- 
iously around for assistance. He felt lonely, de- 
serted, and betrayed ; he felt as though there was 
no comfort, no hope for him. His soul turned 
with unutterable yearning toward the queen ; she 
was the pillar against which he desired to lean, 
that he might not sink to the ground ; she was 
his energy, his strength, his determination, and 
when she was at his side, he felt strong enough 
to brave any calamity. His love longed for her, 


and political considerations soon required her 
presence. 

“ Beseech the queen to come hither,” said Al- 
exander to him ; “ she alone is able now to do 
something for Prussia. Her beauty, her elo- 
quence, her amiability, and her understanding, 
will be more likely to obtain concessions from 
Napoleon than any thing else. It wdll touch his 
magnanimity that the noble queen, whom he has 
so often reviled, condescends to come to him to 
implore his mercy. This high-minded resolution 
will make a deep impression upon his generosity, 
and he will grant twenty times more than I am 
able to obtain by my daily and most urgent so- 
licitations.” 

The king still hesitated. Owing to his sense 
of honor and his conscientiousness, he shrank 
from doing what his heart so intensely desired { 
and, before making up his mind, he wished to 
hear the views of his friends, General von Kock- 
eritz and Field-Marshal Kalkreuth, who were car- 
rying on the peace negotiations with Talleyrand. 
Both of them shared the opinion of the Emperor 
Alexander ; both of them exclaimed : “ The queen 
is our last hope ! She alone is able to make an 
impression upon the inexorable conqueror, and 
Napoleon possibly may not refuse her what ho 
declined granting to your majesty and to us. It 
is necessary for the welfare of Prussia that her 
majesty should come hither.” 

The king delayed no longer. He wrote to the 
queen, and requested her to come to his head- 
quarters at Puktupohnen. He told her it was 
her sacred duty to make a last effort for the pres- 
ervation of Prussia — that every thing would be 
lost if she failed to move Napoleon by her suppli- 
cations and remonstrances. A courier hastened 
immediately with the letter to Memel. When 
Louisa read it, a pallor overspread her features. 
Uttering a cry of excruciating anguish, she drop- 
ped the paper into her lap, and buried her face in 
her hands. 

Madame von Berg, who had heard the loud 
sobs of the queen in the adjoining room, hastened 
to console or weep with her. Louisa did not hear 
her come ; she was still absorbed in grief ; only 
incoherent lamentations fell from her lips, and 
her tears fell on the letter lying in her lap. Ma- 
dame von Berg knelt, and implored her with the 
eloquence of devotedness and affection to let her 
share her queen’s grief— to tell her what new ca- 
lamity had occurred. 

Louisa looked with sorrowful eyes at the friend 
kneeling before her. “You ask me what ca 
lamity has befallen me ! Read and know ! ” she 
said, handing the 'letter to her lady of honor. 


QUEEN LOUISA. 


121 


and, at the same time, raising her from her 
knees. 

While Madame von Berg wag reading, the 
queen rose ; and with her head thrown back, and 
her eyes turned upward, she commenced slowly 
pacing the room. “Well?” she asked, when 
Madame von Berg, with a deep sigh, had laid the 
letter on the table. “ Did you read it ? And do 
you comprehend my grief now ? ” 

“ I do, your majesty,” she said, mournfully. 

“ Caroline,” exclaimed the queen, in an out- 
burst of despair, “ I am to bow to this man, who 
has insulted me so infamously ! I am to step 
like a beggar before him who has slandered my 
honor before the whole world, who has crushed 
my heart, and wounded my soul in such a manner 
that it can never, never recover ! I tell you, he 
will be the cause of my death I On the day when 
I read those calumnies which he contrived to 
have printed about me — on that day I felt a pang 
in my heart as if a dagger had been plunged into 
it ! Ah, would I could die this hour, before sink- 
ing into this new humiliation ! Ah, my soul is 
willing to bow to the great, the beautiful, the 
sublime — ^but not to him — ^not to that proud man 
who is trampling mankind in the dust ; who has 
rendered King Frederick William so wretched, 
robbing him of his states and of his majesty, 
slandering his queen, and oppressing his people. 
Caroline, think of it ! I am to meet politely him 
who has robbed my children of their inheritance, 
and caused me so many sleepless nights, so many 
tears, so many pangs ! With a smile I am to 
conceal my anguish ; and, under a magnificent 
costume, my wounded heart ! As it behooves 
every lady, though no queen, I am not to wait for 
him to come to me, but I am to go to him ! . I am 
to force my visit on him — am to court his favor ! 
Ah, it is too much — ^too cruel ! ” 

Raising her arms impetuously to heaven, she 
exclaimed in the energy of her grief, “ Wilt Thou 
have no mercy upon me, my God ? Ah, let me 
die! Let me die, to escape this new disgx’ace 
menacing me ! I am a poor, tormented woman ! 
I ask nothing of Thee but death 1 Vfilt Thou re- 
fuse me this only wish ? ” She sank on her 
knees, her arms and eyes still raised toward heav- 
en, as if she expected that her prayer would be 
granted. She slowly dropped her arms, and hung 
her head with a groan. Madame von Berg, in 
tears and with folded hands, was praying in a low 
voice. 

A long pause ensued. The queen rose from her 
knees ; her face was calm and her tears had gone 1 
but around her eyes a quiver was still seen, and 
at times a sigh escaped her breast. “ It is over 


now,” she said in a low voice, “ the struggle is 
over t Pardon my impassioned grief, Caroline ; 
My poor heart sometimes refuses to submit to the 
bridle of affliction. But I must be docile and 
patient, and learn to obey without a murmur.” 

There was something so touching in the tone 
and manner in which the queen uttered these 
words, in the glance with which she gave her 
hand to her friend, that Madame von Berg was 
unable to conceal her tears. She took Louisa’s 
hand and pressed it to her lips. 

“ Do not weep, Caroline,” said the queen. “ I 
have paid my tribute to human nature ; I have 
wept, but now I will be strong and do my duty. 
Stand by me, and console me by your calmness 
and fortitude. I must set out in an hour ; let us 
reflect, therefore, what preparations ought to be 
made.” 

“Then you will really go, your majesty?” 
asked Madame von Berg, sadly. 

“ Majesty I ” ejaculated the queen, almost in- 
dignantly. “Is this reverence intended to deride 
me ? Where is my majesty ? ” 

“ In your sovereign eyes, Louisa,” said Madame 
von Berg — “ in your great and noble heart, which 
masters its grief and submits to duty. It beams 
gloriously around your head, wliich, though it may 
bow to your adversary, will never be humbled by 
him. But, consider, are you not about to impose 
upon yourself, in your generous devotedness, a 
sacrifice which is greater, it may be, than the re- 
ward ? Napoleon is not a magnanimous man ; he 
lacks true chivalry, and he would delight, per- 
haps, to scorn the august lady who humbles her- 
self so painfully, and who thereby affords him a 
triumph. There is a voice in my heart, warning 
me against this plan; it is repugnant to my 
womanly feelings that my noble queen is suddenly 
to descend into the petty affairs of politics. I am 
afraid your beauty, your understanding, your 
grace, are to be abused to fascinate your enemy, 
and to wrest from him by persuasion what is the 
sacred right and property of your king and of 
your children, and what I believe cannot bo 
wrested from the conqueror through intercession, 
but by the king and his ally, the Emperor Alex- 
ander, -by means of negotiations, or, if they should 
fail, by force and conquest.” • 

“ Hush, hush, Caroline,” exclaimed the queen 
anxiously. “Do not repeat to me my own 
thoughts; do not give expression to my doubts 
and fears ! I think and feel like you. But I must 
go nevertheless; I must do what my king and 
husband asks me to do. He wrote me that it 
is my sacred duty to control my feelings, and 
1 come to him — that every thing is lost if I do not 


122 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


succeed in influencing Napoleon by my remon- 
strances. It shall not be said that I neglected 
my duty, and refused to yield, when the welfare 
of my children and of my husband was at stake. 
It is a trial imposed upon me now, and I am ac- 
customed to make sacrifices. God may reward 
my children for the sufferings I am now undergo- 
ing ; the tears of their mother may remove ad- 
versity from them when I am no more. Oh, my 
children and my husband, if you are only happy, I 
shall never regret having suffered and wept ! And 
who knows,” she added, “ whether God may not 
have mercy upon me, and whether, by the humil- 
iation I am about to make, I may not really pro- 
mote the welfare of my king, my children, and my 
beloved people? Oh, Caroline, I feel a joyful 
foreboding that it will be so ! It will touch the 
proud conqueror to see a lady, a wife, a mother, 
who was once a queen, and is now but a sad, 
afflicted woman, appear before him and humbly 
ask him to have mercy on her children and her 
country. Even though he should feel no generos- 
ity, he will feign it, and, in his ambition to be ad- 
mired by the world, he will grant me what he 
would have refused under other circumstances. 
The hearts of men rest in the hands of God. He 
will move this man’s heart ! ” 

Scarcely touching the floor with her feet, 
Louisa ghded across the room to the piano. She 
slowly touched the keys, and with upturned 
glances she indicated her thoughts, singing in a 
joyful voice the hymn commencing with the words : 

In all thy ways — in grief, in fear, 

O troubled heart ! rely 

On that all-faithful, ceaseless care 
Of Him who rules tho sky. * 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

BAD TIDIKGS. 

Frederick William and Louisa sat hand in 
hand in the small, wretched room of the mill at 
Puktupohnen. They were not a royal couple, 
but a pair of lovers, thanking God that they were 
again united, and could read in each other’s eyes 
the love and constancy that animated them. The 
king, generally taciturn and laconic, found words 
at this hour ; his happiness made him eloquent, 

* Befiehl Du Deine Wege 

Und was Dein Herze Ki-itnkt, 

Der allertreu’sten Pflege 
Dess, der den Himmel lenkt. 

» ♦ * ♦ 

Paix Gebhaed. 


and he unbosomed himself unreservedly, telling of 
his apprehensions and forebodings. “ But now,” 
he said, pressing Louisa’s hand to his lips, “ now 
you are here, and affairs will assume a more hope- 
ful aspect. Your eyes will strengthen and your 
voice will encourage me. Alas ! I stand greatly 
in need of your presence, for my soul is well-nigh 
crushed. I have no longer sufficient strength to 
withstand my misfortunes and humiliations — 
they oppress my life day and night, leaving me no 
rest. At times, when I sat at the dinner-table 
between the two emperors, and gazed at the som- 
bre features of Napoleon, in contrast with the 
good-natured face of Alexander, and listened to 
their jests, I felt as though I ought to interrupt 
them by an expression of anger, and say to them, 

‘ It is a shame for you to laugh when misfortune 
is in your company, and seated by your side.’ 
But I suppressed my feelings. Oh, Louisa, I was 
all alone in my agony. Now you are here, I am 
no longer alone ! ” He threw his arms around the 
queen’s neck, and pressed her against his heart, 
as though afraid she might also be wrested from 
him. “ Oh, beloved Louisa,” he whispered, “ you 
are my consolation and my hope ; do not desert 
me — do not give me up — now that the whole 
world seems to desert me ! ” 

The queen encircled his neck in her arms and 
kissed him. “ I shall always stay with you,” she 
said, smiling in her tears; “so long as my heart 
throbs it belongs to you, my king, my beloved 
husband!” They remained locked in an em- 
brace. Their thoughts were prayers, and their 
prayers love. 

A carriage rapidly driving up to the door, and 
rattling the windows, roused them. “ It is Alex- 
ander, who comes to pay you a visit,” said the 
king, rising. “ I will meet him.” 

But before he had reached the door, it opened, 
and the Emperor Alexander appeared. “Ah, I 
succeeded in surprising both of you,” he said, with 
a good-humored smile. Bowing respectfully to 
the queen, he added: “I trust your majesty will 
forgive my entering without announcement, but I 
longed to see my noble friend Frederick William. 
God and His saints be praised that the sun has 
at length risen on us, and that your majesty has 
arrived ! ” 

“Yes, sire, I have arrived,” said Louisa, mourn- 
fully ; “ however, I do not bring the sun with me. 
Night surrounds us, and it seems to me I cannot 
see a single star in the darkness.” 

Alexander became grave ; he gazed long and 
searchingly at the pale face of the queen, and a 
sigh escaped his breast. “ Sire,” he said, turn- 
ing to the king, “ can we really make peace with 


BAD TIDINGS. 


the man who, in the course of a few weeks, 
changed into the lily the red rose that once adorned 
the face of the noblest and most beautiful lady ? 
Can we really forgive him for wringing tears from 
our august queen ? ” 

“ Fate does not ask us whether we can,” said 
the king, glooraingly. “ It tells us only what we 
must. In my heart I shall never make peace 
with the man who, although a great captain, is 
no great man ; else he would be less cruel. But 
God has given him the power, and we must all 
bow to him.” 

“ But it is not necessary to humble ourselves 
before him,” exclaimed the queen. “Amid our 
misfortunes we must keep ourselves erect ; and if 
we perish, we ought to do so with unsullied 
honor.” 

“But why perish?” said Alexander. “We 
are shipwrecked, it is true, and we are now drift- 
ing on the waves, but we must save ourselves. 
Every one must try, to the best of his ability, to 
do so ; he must grasp at the first thing that falls 
into his hands — at a plank, at a straw. Some 
fortunate rope may at last save us, and draw us 
to the shore. We shall then build a new ship, 
and man her with fresh hands. Do you agree 
with me, my dear fellow-sufierers ? ” 

“Sire,” said Louisa, in a low and mournful 
voice, “you are magnanimous. You call yourself 
our fellow-sufferer. And yet the tempest ship- 
wrecked us alone.” 

“By no means,” exclaimed Alexander ; “ I have 
also suffered ; all my hopes, wishes, and ambition 
went down. But I did not wish to be drowned, 
and I stretched out my arms for something to sup- 
port me. Do you know what I found to sustain 
me ? The Emperor Napoleon ! Oh, he is a strong 
support.” 

“ I have heard, sire, your majesty has of late 
become au ardent admirer of Napoleon,” said the 
queen, in a tremulous voice. 

“ Yes,” exclaimed Alexander, enthusiastically, 
“ Napol^n is a genius, a demi-god ; the great 
Alexander of antiquity has risen from the dead. 
He realizes the myths of the ancient heroes. I 
repeat it to him every day, and, thank God, he 
believes me ! ” 

The queen cast a surprised and inquiring glance 
on him. A singular smile played on his lips. 
“Yes,” he repeated, “Napoleon believes me! 
He is convinced of the sincerity of my admiration, 
and he is right. I love him as my master — as my 
teacher — as the great ideal that I will endeavor to 
imitate 1 ” 

“Oh, sire,” sighed the queen, reproachfully, 
“ you give me pain ! ” 


123 

“ You hate him, then ? ” asked Alexander, 
quickly. 

“No,” replied Louisa, gently, “I do not hato 
him, but I cannot love and adore him. Only the 
good can make the world happy, and Napoleon 
has no good intentions toward the nations. In 
his unmeasured ambition he thinks of himself and 
his individual interests only. We may admire, 
but cannot love him.” 

“We must, we can love him!” exclaimed 
Alexander. “ He is an instrument in the hand 
of Providence, that seems to have armed him to 
rule the world. I love Napoleon,” he added, in a 
whispering tone, “and I am sure he believes in 
and returns my love. He overwhelms me with 
attentions and favors; we have long conversa- 
tions every day ; we take our meals together, and 
make many excursions. A shower surprised us 
yesterday and gave us a thorough wetting. How 
amiably the great Napoleon behaved toward me ! 
how kindly he took care of me ! He would not 
even let me to go to my quarters to change my 
dress, but conducted me himself to his room and 
lent me his linen and clothing. As a souvenir, he 
presented me with a superb dressing-case of gold 
which I chanced to admire. I shall always pre- 
serve this gift as a token of his friendship.” 

He paused a moment, and cast a quick glance 
at the royal couple. Frederick William had 
turned toward the window, and seemed to look 
intently at the sky. Louisa had cast down her 
eyes, and her features expressed a profound mel- 
ancholy. The same strange smile played on the 
emperor’s face, but neither the king nor the 
queen noticed it. He kissed Louisa’s hand and 
asked : “ Will your majesty graciously permit me 
to show you that beautiful dressing-case ? ” 

The queen withdrew her hand almost indig- 
nantly. “I thank your majesty,” she said, “ I am 
not very anxious to see the gifts of Napoleon.” 

Alexander approached nearer to her. “That 
is right,” he whispered hastily, “be angry with 
me — ^regard me as a faithless man — a renegade, 
you will yet be undeceived ! ” 

“ Sire,” said the queen, “ sire — ” 

“ Hush ! ” whispered Alexander, receding from 
her and approaching the king. “Your majesty 
knows how much I have at heart your friendship 
as well as your welfare — what pains I take to soft- 
en the heart of the conqueror, and to inspire him 
with more lenient sentiments toward Prussia. I 
improve every opportunity ; I try to profit by my 
private interviews to obtain better terms for you ; 
as, for instance, I succeeded yesterday in per- 
suading bim to leave you the fortress of Grau- 
denz.” 


124 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


> 

“I thank your majesty,” said Frederick Wil- 
liam, gravely. “But, as far as I know, Napoleon 
did not conquer and occupy that fortress at all ; 
it held out bravely and faithfully to the day of 
the armistice; it remained mine, and I do not 
see by what right he claims it.” 

“ Oh, your majesty,” exclaimed Alexander, 
carelessly, “ the victor claims the right of taking 
every thing he pleases. You must remember that, 
now and hereafter— yes, hereafter,” repeated 
Alexander, laying stress on the word. “I was 
glad, therefore, that I succeeded in preserving 
Graudenz to you. Unfortunately, however, I did 
not succeed in recovering the frontiers. Our 
august queen must use her eloquence, and I have 
no doubt that the noblest of women will succeed 
in bringing about what we and our ministers 
failed to accomplish. But in order that your 
majesty may become fully aware of the important 
interests that are at stake, of the dangers mena- 
cing Prussia, and how urgently she needs the assist- 
ance of her queen, I have brought the ‘ ultimatum ’ 
of Napoleon. He dictated it to-day, to Talley- 
rand in my presence, and I requested him to give 
me a copy. Will you permit me, sire, to com- 
municate it to you ? ” 

“It is always better to know our fate, and look 
it full in the face,” said the king, slowly. “ I re- 
quest your majesty, therefore, to read it.” 

“ And will you also permit me ? ” asked Alex- 
ander, turning to the queen. 

Louisa gently nodded. “The king is right,” 
she said, “ we should know the worst. Let us sit 
down, if your majesty please.” 

She took a seat on the sofa ; the emperor and 
her husband occupied the easy-chairs on the other 
side of the table. 

“ I implore your majesties, however, to listen 
without interrupting me,” said Alexander, draw- 
ing a paper from his bosom. Glancing over it, 
he added : “ Napoleon demands, above all, that 
Prussia shall cede to him the whole territory on 
the right of the Niemen, the city of Memel, and 
the district extending as far as Tilsit, for he asserts 
that this is the natural frontier of Russia. He 
requires your majesty, further, to cede your whole 
territory on the left of the Elbe to France, for he 
regards the Elbe as also the natural frontier of 
the Prussian kingdom. He stipulates expressly 
that the district of Hildesheim shall not be in- 
cluded in the territory of your majesty on the 
right of the Elbe, for he desires this district to 
form part of the new kingdom of Westphalia, 
which he has resolved to organize. But to com- 
pensate you for this loss, he will prevail upon 
Saxony to cede to you a territory on the right of 


the Elbe, equivalent to the district of Memel, 
Napoleon demands the Polish provinces of Prus- 
sia for the new kingdom of Poland to be organ- 
ized ; but your majesty is to keep Pomerelia and 
the districts of Kulm, Elbing, and Marianwerder. 
The district of the Netze, as well as the canal of 
Bromberg and Thorn, will be taken from Prussia ; 
Dantzic, with its surroundings, is to be constituted 
a free — 1 believe, a free German city, under the 
joint protection of Saxony and Prussia. Russia is 
to cede the island of Corfu to France. This is 
Napoleon’s ‘ ultimatum,’ ” said Alexander, laying 
the paper on the table. “ These, queen, are the 
conditions which our majesty ought to endeavor 
to render less rigorous, and if possible, to cancel 
altogether. What do you think of them, youi 
majesty ? ” 

“ I think that if we cannot avert our fate, we 
must submit to it,” replied Frederick William in a 
hollow voice, “ but that recourse ought to be had 
to every means to render it less offensive. For if 
I am compelled to sign these propositions, I sign 
the ruin of Prussia.” 

The queen had listened to the words of the 
emperor, with breathless attention, and fixed her 
eyes inquiringly on her husband. On hearing his 
mournful reply, she sank back exhausted, and 
tears flowed down her cheeks. 

“ Your majesty sees how necessary it was that 
you should come hither,” said Alexander to the 
queen. “ You have a great task to perform here. 
You alone are able to save Prussia ! ” 

Louisa shook her head. “Sire,” she said, “he 
who was arrogant enough to draw up such an 
‘ ultimatum,’ is also cruel enough to withstand all 
solicitation. I have come because my king com- 
manded me ; faithful to the duty intrusted to me, 
I shall try to mitigate our fate, but I do not hope 
to be successful.” 

“ In these times, nothing can be promised with 
any degree of certainty ; we can only hope for the 
best,” said Alexander. “ We must not relax in 
our efforts to bring about a change in these terms. 
But I have not yet communicated to you all the 
demands of the Emperor Napoleon.” 

“ Indeed ! ” exclaimed the king, with a bitter 
laugh. “Then there is something still left for 
Napoleon to take from me ? ” 

“Yes, sire, he demands that your majesty dis- 
miss your minister. Yon Hardenberg.” 

“ Hardenberg ! ” exclaimed the queen, sadly — 
“ the king’s most faithful and devoted servant ! Oh, 
your majesty knows him — the generous zeal that 
animates him, and the noble purposes that he pur- 
sues.” 

• “ I know him and have tried to lessen Napo- 


BAD TIDINGS. 


125 


leon’s hostility,” said Alexander, shrugging his 
shoulders. “But my efforts were unsuccessful. 
He insists on Hardenberg’s removal, and I cannot 
but advise your majesty, urgently, to comply. 1 
cannot conceal from you that the Emperor Napo- 
leon has declared to me to-day, that he would 
make no peace, but wage war with Prussia for 
forty years rather than consent that Hardenberg, 
his implacable adversary, should remain your min- 
ister for a single day.” 

“ That is too much,” exclaimed the queen, in- 
dignantly. “Let Napoleon dismember Prussia, 
since he has the power, but he must not compel 
us to select or dismiss our servants according to 
his hon 'plainrp 

“ He must not ! but he can do so,” said the 
king gloomily, “ and as Napoleon does every thing 
he can, of course he compels me to undergo a 
fresh humiliation. I must restore peace to my 
poor, bleeding country ; I cannot continue the 
war. If, therefore, he insists on Hardenberg’s re- 
moval as a first condition of the peace, I must 
comply.” 

“ But it is impossible to inform such a faithful 
and devoted servant of the state so abruptly of his 
ignominious removal from office,” exclaimed the 
queen, mournfully. 

“No,” said Alexander, “that is unnecessary. 
Minister von Hardenberg will send in his resigna- 
don. I have had a long conference with him, 
and, in consequence of it, he has repaired hither 
to request your majesty to grant him an audience. 
May I call him ? ” 

“ If your majesty desires me I will receive him 
in your presence and in that of the queen,” said 
Frederick William, walking to the door ; he opened 
it, and cried ; “ Minister von Hardenberg ! ” 

A few minutes afterward Hardenberg entered 
the room. The serene expression of his fine, 
manly features had not disappeared; calm, and 
kindly as usual, he approached their majesties, 
and bowed to them respectfully, yet with the pride 
of a man conscious of his own dignity. He took 
the liberty, therefore, to violate etiquette, and to 
speak without being spoken to. “ Sire,” he said, 
turning to the Emperor Alexander, “ I thank you 
for being so kind as to procure me an audience 
with his majesty, and as I may hope that you have 
communicated to my king and master the reason 
why I applied for it, I shall have but little to say. 
Time is precious, and, therefore, I shall be brief.” 

He a]pproached the king, and, bowing deeply to 
him, added: “Your majesty knows that I have 
devoted my life to the service of Prussia. I have 
served her to the best of my ability and energy 
SO long as the confidence of your majesty per- 


mitted me. But circumstances require me now 
to prove my devotedness in a different way. I 
can serve her now only by retiring from the civil 
service, and by laying the portfolio that your ma- 
jesty intrusted to me, at your feet. I, therefore, 
request you to be so gracious as to accept my 
resignation.” 

The king made no immediate reply. The queen 
looked at him, and an expression of anxious sus- 
pense and tender solicitude was to be seen in her 
features. The Emperor Alexander stood with 
folded arms at the side of the king, and glanced 
with a smile now at the minister, now at the royal 
couple. 

“ Sire,” repeated Hardenberg, since the king 
was still silent, “ I request your majesty to be so 
gracious as to accept my resignation.” 

Frederick William started. “ You know very 
well,” he said, hastily, and almost in a harsh voice, 
“ that it gives me pain to do so. I have to sub- 
mit to necessity. I have no power to resist the 
most arrogant demands — no army to continue the 
war. Hence, I must accept the only terms on 
which I am able to obtain peace, and must also 
accept the resignation you tender. You are free. 
Minister von Hardenberg; I am not allowed to 
attach you to my cause. Accept my thanks for 
your valuable services, and, believe me, I regret 
that I shall have to do without them.” He took 
the minister’s hand and added: “I wish you joy 
of being no longer in office ; it will not now be ne- 
cessary for you to sign the peace which Napoleon 
offers to us.” 

“ Sire,” said Hardenberg, proudly, “ I should 
never have signed that treaty. It is not a treaty 
of peace, but of servitude. But I forget that I 
have now no right to meddle with the policy of 
Prussia. I thank your majesty, and beg leave to 
depart.” 

“ I have to permit you,” said the king; “you 
are more fortunate than I am ; you are a free 
man.” 

“ Sire, I have, after all, but that freedom which 
every honorable man ought to preserve even in 
misfortune,” said Hardenberg, gently — “ the free- 
dom of not bowing to wrong and injustice, and of 
perishing rather than enduring disgrace. T intend 
to depart in the course of an hour.” 

“ Farewell,” said Frederick William, hastily ; 
“ and when I say farewell, I mean that we shall 
meet again. I hope there will be better times. If 
I call you, then, will you come, Hardenberg ? ” 

“ I shall never close my ear against the call of 
your majesty and of Prussia,” said Hardenberg, 
bowing to the king and the queen. He then 
turned to the Emperor Alexander. “ Sire,” he said. 


126 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


“ on taking leave of you, and being, perhaps, for 
the last tune, so fortunate as to see your majesty, 
it is a comfort to me to remember the day when 
I beheld you first in the spring of the present year. 
It was at Kydullen, where your majesty showed 
to the King of Prussia your lifeguards that accom- 
panied you from St. Petersburg to participate in the 
war against France. When the soldiers marched 
past you embraced King Frederick William, and 
exclaimed with tearful eyes ; ‘ Neither of us shall 
fall alone ; either both, or neither ! ’ These words 
are still resounding in my ears, and in these disas- 
trous days, when Prussia’s honor and existence 
are at stake, they are my only consolation. Your 
majesty has not fallen, and hence, you will not al- 
low Prussia to fall. You will remember your oath, 
the fidelity which Prussia has manifested toward 
you, and never so stain your gloi’y as to desert 
her now and suffer her to fall alone ! This is my 
hope, and, comforted by it, I leave you.” 

“ Ah,” said Alexander, sighing, “ how unfortu- 
nate I am ! You spoke at my right ear, and you 
know that there I am deaf. Hence, I did not 
hear much of what you said. But I believe you 
wished to take leave of me ; I, therefore, bid you 
a heart-felt farewell, and wish you a happy jour- 
ney.” He offered his hand to Hardenberg, but 
the deep bow the minister made just then, pre- 
vented him, perhaps, from seeing the extended 
hand of the emperor ; he did not grasp it, but 
withdrew in silence, walking backward to the door. 

When he was about to go out, the queen rose 
from the sofa. “ Hardenberg,” she exclaimed, 
vehemently, “ and you forget to bid me fare- 
well ? ” 

“ Your majesty,” said the minister, respectfully, 
“ I await your permission to do so.” 

The queen hastened to him. Tears glistened in 
her eyes, and she said in a voice tremulous with 
emotion : “You know what I suffer in these 
times of humiliation, for you know my sentiments, 
which can never change — never prove faithless to 
the objects which we pursued together. A time 
of adversity compels us to bow our heads ; but 
let us lift our hearts to God, and pray for better 
times. He will instill courage and patience into 
the souls of noble and true patriots, and teach 
them not to despair. Hardenberg, I believe in 
you, and so does Prussia. Work for the cause in 
private life, as you are unable to do so in public 
— prepare for the new era. This is my farewell 
— this the expression of my gratitude for your 
fidelity. May God protect you, that you may be 
able again to be useful to our country ! When- 
ever I pray for Prussia, I shall remember you ! 
Farewell ! ” She offered him her hand, and as 


he bent to kiss it, he could not refrain from tears. 
He averted his head as if to conceal his emotion, 
and left the room. 

Louisa looked at the king, who stood musing 
with folded arms. “ Oh, my husband ! ” she ex- 
claimed mournfully, “Napoleon robs you not 
only of your states, but of your most faithful 
friends and advisers. God save Prussia ! ” 


CHAPTER XXX. 

QUEEN LOfjISA AND NAPOLEON. 

The queen had finished her toilet. For the 
first time during many months, she had adorned 
herself, and appeared again in regal pomp. A 
white satin dress, embroidered with gold, sur- 
rounded her tall and beautiful form, and fell be- 
hind her in a flowing train. A broad necklace of 
pearls and diamonds set off her superb neck ; 
bracelets of the same kind encircled her arms, 
that might have served as a model for Phidias. ^ 
A diadem of costly gems was glittering on her ex- 
pansive forehead. It was a truly royal toilet, and 
in former days' the queen herself would have re- 
joiced in it ; but to-day no gladness was in her 
face — her cheeks were pallid, her lips quivering, 
and her eyes gloomy. 

She contemplated her figure in the mirror with 
a mournful, listless air, and, turning to Madame 
von Berg, who had accompanied her to Puktii- 
pohnen, and who was to be her companion on 
her trip to Tilsit, she said : “ Caroline, when I 
look at myself, I cannot help shuddering, and 
my heart feels cold. I am adorned as the ancient 
Germans used to dress their victims, when they 
were about to throw them into the flames to 
pacify the wrath of their gods. I shall suffer the 
same fate. I shall die of the fire burning in my 
heart, yet I shall not be able to propitiate the 
idol that the world is worshipping. It will be all 
in vain ! With a soul so crushed as mine, I am 
incapable of accomplishing any thing. But com- 
plaints are useless, I must finish what I have be- 
gun ; I must — but hush ! is not that the sound 
of wheels approaching this house ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Madame von Berg, hastening to 
the window ; “ it is a carriage — a brilliant court- 
carriage, drawn by eight horses, and escorted by 
French dragoons.” 

Louisa pressed her hands against her heart, 
and a low cry burst from her lips. “ Oh,” she 
whispered, “ the dagger is again piercing my 
heart. Oh, how it aches ! ” 


QUEEN LOUISA AND NAPOLEON. 


127 


Owing to the noise with which the imperial 
coach had driven up, Madame von Berg did not 
hear the last words of the queen. “ Oh,” she ex- 
claimed joyfully, “ the Emperor Napoleon really 
seems to be favorably disposed toward us. He 
takes pains at least to receive your majesty with 
the respect due to a queen. The carriage is mag- 
nificent, and the eight horses wear a harness of 
gold and purple. The French dragoons have on 
their gala-uuiforms and are marching into line to 
present arms when your majesty appears. I be- 
gin to hope that I was mistaken in Napoleon ; he 
will not humble her whom he receives with the 
splendor lavished on the most powerful crowned 
heads.” 

Louisa shook her head. “ He has learned a 
lesson from the ancient Caesars,” she said. 
“ When Zenobia adorned the triumphal proces- 
sion of Aurelian, she was clad in robes of pur- 
ple and gold ; she stood on a gilded car, sur- 
rounded by servants, as it was due to a queen. 
But manacles were about her arms; she was, 
after all, but a prisoner, and the contrast of the 
chain with the royal pomp rendered only more 
striking the imperial triumph and her own humilia- 
tion. But, no matter ! We must go through 
with it. Come, Caroline, give me my cloak.” She 
wrapped herself in a small cloak of violet velvet, 
and casting a last imploring glance toward heaven, 
she left the room to drive to Tilsit. 

At the hotel, where the king was staying, he 
received his consort and conducted her up-stairs 
to the room prepared for her. They said little ; 
the immense importance of this hour made them 
taciturn ; they spoke to each other only by 
glances, by pressing each other’s hands, and by a 
few whispered words indicative of their profound 
anxiety and suspense. Scarcely fifteen minutes had 
elapsed when one of Napoleon’s aides appeared, 
to inform her that the emperor was already on 
his way to see her. The king kissed his wife’s 
hand. “ Farewell, Louisa,” he said, “ and may 
God give you strength to meet your adversary ! ” 

Louisa retained him. “ You will not stay 
with me ? ” she asked, breathlessly. “ You will 
leave me at this painful moment ? ” 

“Etiquette requires me to do so,” said the 
king. “ You know very well that I care noth- 
ing for these empty forms ; but it seemri that 
Napoleon, to whom they are still new, deems 
them necessary for upholding the majesty of the 
new-fangled empire. The emperor pays a visit to 
the queen alone ; hence, you must receive him 
alone. Only your lady of honor is allowed to re- 
main in the adjoining room, the door of which 
will be left open- Napoleon’s companion — Tal- 


leyrand, I believe — wdll also remain there. Fare- 
well, Louisa ; I shall come only when the emperor 
expressly asks for me. Do you hear the horses 
in front of the house ? Napoleon is coming ! I 
go.” He nodded pleasantly, and left the room. 

“ Oh, my children ! ” muttered the queen ; “ I 
am doing this for you — for your sake I will speak 
and humble my heart ! ” 

She heard the sound of footsteps on the stair- 
case, and Madame von Berg appeared in the 
adjoining room to announce that his majesty the 
Emperor Napoleon was approaching. Louisa 
nodded, and, quickly crossing the anteroom, she 
went out into the corridor. Napoleon was just 
ascending the stairs. His face was illuminated 
with a triumphant expression, and a sinister fire 
was burning in his eyes, which he fixed on the < 
queen with a strange mixture of curiosity and 
sympathy. Louisa looked at him calmly ; a touch- 
ing smile played on her lips ; her beautiful face 
beamed with energy and courage, and an air of 
pious solemnity w^as visible in her whole appear- 
ance. Napoleon felt involuntarily moved in the 
presence of a lady so queen-like and yet so gentle, 
and bowed more respectfully to her than he had 
ever done to any other woman. 

“ Sire,” said Louisa, conducting him into the 
room, “I am sorry that your majesty had to as- 
cend so miserable a staircase.” 

“Oh,” exclahned Napoleon, “if the way leading 
to you was inconvenient, madame, the reward ia 
so desirable that one would shrink from no trouble 
to obtain it.” 

“ It seems there is nothing too inconvenient for 
your majesty,” said the queen, gently. “ Neither 
the sands of Egypt nor the snows of our north 
impede the career of the hero. And yet I should 
think our cold climate an obstacle difficult to 
overcome. Did your majesty not have this opin- 
ion sometimes last winter ? ” 

“ It is true,” said Napoleon. “ Your Prussia is 
somewhat cold. She is too close to Russia, and 
allows herself to be fanned too much by its icy 
breezes ! ” 

Louisa feigned not to understand this allusion 
to the policy of Prussia, and, turning to the em- 
peror, she requested him to take a seat on the sofa. 
Napoleon offered her his hand and conducted 
her to it. “Let us sit down,” he said, wdth a 
tinge of irony. Turning to her, he added : “ You 
have hated me so long that you ought to give mo 
now a slight token of the change in your senti- 
ments, and permit me to sit at your side. Bend- 
ing over, he looked her full in the face and seemed 
to wait for her to renew the conversation. 

The queen felt her heart tremble — that the 


128 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


critical moment had come, and she concentrated 
her courage and determination that that moment 
might not pass unimproved. She raised her eyes 
slowly, and, with an affecting expression, she said 
in a low, tremulous voice, “Will your majesty 
permit me to tell you why I have come hither ? ” 
Napoleon nodded, and continued looking steadily 
at her. 

“ I have come,” added the queen, “ to beg your 
majesty to grant Prussia a more favorable peace. 
Sire, I use the word ‘beg ! ’ I will not speak of 
our rights, of our claims, but only of our misfor- 
tunes ; I will only appeal to^the generosity of 
your majesty, imploring you to lessen our calami- 
ties, and have mercy on our people ! ” 

“ The misfortunes we suffer are generally the 
consequences of our own faults,” exclaimed Napo- 
leon, harshly ; “ hence, we must endure what we 
bring upon ourselves. How could you dare to 
wage war against me ? ” 

The queen raised her head, and her eyes flashed. 
“Sire,” she said, quickly and proudly, “the glory 
of the great Frederick induced us to mistake our 
strength, if we were mistaken.” 

“ You were mistaken, at least in your hopes 
that you could vanquish me,” exclaimed Napoleon, 
sternly. But, as if struck by a sudden recollec- 
tion, and meaning to apologize for his rudeness, he 
bowed, and added in a pleasant tone : “ I refer to 
Prussia and not to you, queen. Your majesty is 
sure to vanquish every one. I was told that you 
w'ere beautiful, and I find that you are the most 
charming lady in the world ! ” 

“ I am neither so vain as to believe that, nor so 
ambitious as to wish it,” said the queen. “ I have 
come hither as consort of the king, as mother of 
my children, and as representative of my people ! ” 

“Ah,” exclaimed Napoleon, politely, “ Prussia 
may well be proud of so noble a representative.” 

“ Sire, Prussia cannot be proud,” replied the 
queen, sighing. “ She weeps over her sons fallen 
on the fields of battle that brought laurels to you ; 
to us nothing but defeat. She has lost her pros- 
perity ; her fields are deva^stated ; her supplies con- 
sumed. She is looking despondingly toward the 
future, and all that remains to her is hope. Sire, 
let not this hope be in vain ! Pardon us for not 
having feared your all-powerful genius and your 
victorious heroism ! It was a terrible misfortune 
for us to have mistaken our strength ; but we have 
been humbled for it. Let it be enough! You 
have made us feel the conqueror’s hand ; let us 
now feel and acknowledge your magnanimity! 
Your majesty cannot intend to trample in the 
dust those whom fortune has already so humbled. 
You will not take revenge for our errors — ^you 


will not deride and revile our majesty — ^for mju- 
jesty, sire, is still enthroned on our heads. It is 
the sacred inheritance which we must bequeath to 
our children.” 

“Ah, your majesty will comprehend that I can- 
not feel much respect for such sacred inheritance,” 
said Napoleon, sneeringly. 

“ But your majesty will respect our misfor- 
tunes,” exclaimed Louisa. “ Sire, adversity is a 
majesty, too, and consecrates its innocent chil- 
dren.” 

“Prussia has to blame none but herself for 
her calamities ! ” said Napoleon, vehemently. 

“ Does your majesty say so because we defended 
our country when we were attacked ? ” asked the 
queen, proudly. “ Do you say so because, faith- 
ful to the treaties which we had sworn to ob- 
serve, we refused to desert our ally for the sako 
of our own profit, but courageously drew the 
sword to protect his and our frontiers ? Heaven 
decreed that we should not be victorious in this 
struggle, and our defeats became a new laurel- 
wreath for your brow. But now you will deem 
your triumphs sufficient, and will not think of 
taking advantage of our distress. I am told that 
your majesty has asked of the king, as the price 
of peace, the largest and best part of his states — 
that you intend taking from him his fortresses, 
cities, and provinces, leaving to him a crown with- 
out territory, a title without meaning — that you 
wish to distribute his subjects and provinces, and 
form of them new nations. But your majesty knows 
well that we cannot with impunity rob a people 
of their inalienable and noblest rights — of their 
nationality — give them arbitrary frontiers, and 
transform them into new states. Nationality is a 
sentiment inherent in the human heart, and our 
Prussians have proud hearts. They love their 
king, their country — ” 

“ And above all their august queen,” inter- 
rupted Napoleon, who wished to put an end to 
this appeal, and direct the conversation into less 
impetuous channels. “ Oh, I know that all Prussia 
idolizes her beautiful queen, and henceforth I shall 
not wonder at it. Happy those who are permitted 
to bear your chains ! ” 

She cast on him a glance so contemptuous that 
Napoleon shrank, and lowered his eyes. “ Sire,” 
she said, “ no one who bears chains is happy, and 
your majesty — who once said to the Italians, ‘You 
need not fear me, for 1 have come to break your 
chains and to deliver you from degrading servi- 
tude ! ’ — will not now reduce a state to servitude. 
For to wrest it from its legitimate sovereign, and 
to compel it to submit to another prince is chaining I 
it — to distribute a people like merchandise, is re- 


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NAPOLEON AND THE QUEEN OF PRUSSIA. p. 129 


QUEEX LOUISA AND NAPOLEON. 


129 


aucing them to slavery. Sire, I dare beg your 
majesty to leave us our nationality and our honor ! 
I dare beg you in the name of my children to 
leave them their inherifrance and their rights.” 

“ Their rights ? ” asked Napoleon. “ Only he 
has them who knows how to maintain them. 
What do you call the rights of your children?” 

“Sire, I refer to their birth, their name, and 
history. By their birth, God conferred on them 
the right to rule over Prussia. And the Prus- 
sian monarchy is rooted in the hearts of the peo- 
ple. Oh, your majesty, do not overthrow it 1 
Honor in us the crown adorning your own victo- 
rious head ! Sovereigns ought to respect each 
other, that their people may never lose the re- 
spect due to them ; sovereigns ought to support 
and strengthen each other, to enable them to 
meet their enemies now carried awmy by the in- 
sane ideas of a so-called new era — ideas that 
brought the heads of Louis XVI. an,d Marie An- 
toinette to the scaffold. Sire, princes are not al- 
ways safe, and harmony among them is indispensa- 
ble ; but it is not strengthening one’s own power 
to weaken that of others — it is not adding lustre 
to one’s own crown to tarnish another’s. 0 sire, 
in the name of all monarchies — nay, in the name 
of your own, now shedding so radiant a light over 
the whole world, I pray for our crown, our peo- 
ple, and our frontiers ! ” 

“ The Prussians,” said Napoleon, rising, “ could 
not have found a more beautiful and eloquent ad- 
vocate than your majesty !” He paced the room 
several times, his hands folded behind him. The 
queen had also risen, but she stood still, and 
looked in breathless suspense at Napoleon, whose 
cold face seemed to warm a little with humane 
emotion. He approached, and fixed his eyes in ad- 
miration on her sad but noble countenance. “ Your 
majesty,” he said, “ I believe you have told me 
many things which no one hitherto has ventured 
to tell me — many things which might have pro- 
voked my anger — some bitter words, and pro- 
phetic threats have fallen from your lips. This 
proves that you at least respect my character, 
and that you believe I will not abuse the posi- 
tion to which the fortune of war has elevated me. 
I will not disappoint you, madame. I will. do all 
I can to mitigate your misfortunes, and to let 
Prussia remain as powerful as is compatible with 
my policy and with my obligations to my old and 
new friends. I regret that she refused to enter 
into an alliance with me, and that I vainly offered 
my friendship to her more than once. It is no 
fault of mine that your majesty has to bear the 
consequences of* this refusal, but I will try to 
ameliorate them as much as I can. I cannot re- 
9 


store your old frontiers ; I cannot deliver your 
country entirely from the burdens and calamities 
of wmr, and preserve it from the tribute which 
the conqueror must impose upon the vanquished, 
in order to receive some compensation for the 
blood that was shed. I will always remember 
that the Queen of Prussia is not only the most 
fascinating, but also the most high-minded, cou- 
rageous, and generous lady in the world, and that 
one cannot do homage enough to her magnanimity 
and intelligence. I promise your majesty that I 
am quite willing to comply with all your wishes 
as far as I can. Inform me, therefore, of them ; 
it will be best for you to be quite frank with me. 
We shall try to become good friends, and, as a 
token of this friendship, I take the liberty to of- 
fer you this flower, which bears so striking a re- 
semblance to you.” He took a full-blown moss- 
rose from the porcelain vase standing on the ta- 
ble, and presented it to her. “Will you accept 
this pledge of friendship at my hands ? ” 

The queen hesitated. It was repugnant to her 
noble and proud heart to receive so sentimental a 
gift from him to whom her heart never could 
grant true friendship. She slowly raised her eyes 
and looked almost timidly into his smiling face. 
“ Sire,” she said in a low voice, “ add to this 
pledge of your friendship ‘still another, that I may 
accept the rose.” 

The smile faded from Napoleon’s face, and an- 
ger darkened his forehead. “ Kemeraber, ma- 
dame,” he said harshly, “ that it is I who com- 
mand, and that you have but the choice to decline 
or to accept. Will you accept this rose ? ” 

“ Sire,” said the queen, with quivering lips and 
tearful eyes, “ give it to me with another pledge 
of your friendship. Give me Magdeburg for my 
children.” 

Napoleon threw the rose on the table. “ Ah, 
madame,” he said, vehemently, “ Magdeburg is no 
toy for children ! ” He turned around and paced 
the room repeatedly, while Louisa hung her head, 
and looked resigned as a martyr ready to suffer 
death. Napoleon glanced at her as he passed, 
and the spectacle exhibited by this aggrieved, and 
yet so dignified and gentle a queen, touched him, 
for it reminded him of Josephine. He stood still 
in front of her. “ Forgive my impulsiveness,” he 
said ; “ I cannot give you Magdeburg, but you 
may rest assured that I will do all I can to lessen 
your calamities, and to fulfil your request. The 
Emperor Alexander is aware of my wishes ; he 
knows that I am desirous to serve the King of 
Prussia. I should like to repeat this to your 
husband himself if he were here.” 

“He is here,” said the queen, hastily ; “and 


130 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


with your majesty’s permission he will be with 
us immediately. 

Napoleon bowed in silence. A sign made by 
Louisa brought the lady of honor. “ Be so kind 
as to request the king to come to us,” said the 
queen, quickly. 

“And while we .are awaiting the king,” said 
Napoleon, calling Talleyrand from the anteroom, 
“ your majesty will permit me to introduce my 
companion. Madame, I have the honor to pre- 
sent my minister of foreign affairs, M. de Talley- 
rand, Prince de Benevento.” 

“ And I deem myself happy to make the ac- 
quaintance of the greatest statesman of the age,” 
said the queen, while Talleyrand’s short figure 
bowed deeply. “ Oh, your majesty is indeed to 
be envied. You have not only gained great 
glory, but are also blessed with high-minded and 
sagacious advisers and executors of your will. 
If the king my husband had always been equally 
fortunate, a great many things would not have 
happened.” 

“ Well, we have induced him to displace at 
least one bad adviser,” exclaimed Napoleon. 
“ That man Hardenberg was the evil genius of 
the king ; he is chiefly to blame for the cnisfor- 
tunes that have befallen Prussia, and it was ne- 
cessary to remove him.” 

“ But he was an experienced statesman,” said 
the queen, whose magnanimous character found 
it difficult to listen to any charge against Hard- 
enburg without saying something in his defence ; 
“ he is a very skilful politician, and it will not 
be easy for the king to fill the place of Minister 
von Eardenburg.” 

“ Ah ! ” said Napoleon, carelessly; “ ministers 
are always to be found. Let him appoint Baron 
von Stein ; he seems to be a man of understand- 
ing.” 

An expression of joyful surprise overspread the 
queen’s face. The king entered. Napoleon met 
him and offered him his hand. “ I wished to 
give your majisty a proof of my kind disposition 
in the presence of your noble and beautiful con- 
sort, and, if you have no objection, to assure you 
of my friendship,” he said. “ I have complied 
as far as possible with all your wishes. The 
Emperor Alexander, in whom you have an ar- 
dent and eloquent friend, will confirm it to you. 
I also communicated to him my last propositions, 
and trust that your majesty will acquiesce in 
them.” 

“ Sire,” said the king, coldly, “ the Emperor 
Alexander laid this ultimatum before me, but 
it would be very painful to me if I should be 
obliged to accept it. It would deprive me of 


the old hereditary provinees which form the 
largest portion of my states.” 

“ I will point out a way to get compensation 
for these losses,” exclaimed Napoleon. “Apply 
to the Emperor Alexander ; let him sacrifice to 
you his relatives, the Princes of Mecklenburg 
and Oldenburg. He can also give up to you tha 
King of Sweden, from whom you may take Stral 
sund and that portion of Pomerania of wffiich he 
makes such bad use. Let him consent that you 
should have these acquisitions, not indeed equal 
to the territories taken from you, but better sit- 
uated, and, for my part, I shall make no objec 
tion.” 

“ Your majesty proposes to me a system ol 
spoliation, to which I can never agree,” said the 
king, proudly. “ I complain of the menaced loss 
of my provinces, not only because it would lessen 
the extent of my territories, but because they are 
the hereditary states of my house, and are asso- 
ciated w'ith my ancestors by indissoluble ties of 
love and fealty.” 

“ You see that these ties are not indissoluble 
after all,” exclaimed Napoleon, “ for we shall 
break them, and you will be consoled for th 
loss by obtaining compensation.” 

“ Possibly others may be more readily consoled 
for such losses,” said the king : “ those who 
are only anxious for the possession of states, and 
wffio do not know what it is to part with hered- 
itary provinces in which the most precious rem- 
iniscences of our youth have their root, and 
which we can no more forget than our cradle.” 

“ Cradle ! ” exclaimed Napoleon, laughing scorn- 
fully. “When the child has become a man, he 
has no time to think of his cradle.” 

“ Yes, he has,” said the king, with an angry 
expression. “We cannot repudiate our child- 
hood, and a man who has a heart must remem- 
ber the associations of his youth.” 

Napoleon, making no reply, looked grave, while 
Frederick William fixed his eyes on him with a 
sullen and defiant expression. The queen felt 
that it was time for her to prevent a more violent 
outburst of indignation on the part of her hus- 
band. “ The real cradle is the tender heart of a 
mother,” she said gently, “ and all Europe knows 
that your majesty does not forget it ; all are 
aware of the reverential love of the great con- 
queror for Madame Letitia, whom France hails as 
noble Madame Mere^ 

Napoleon raised his eyes toward her, and hi? 
forbidding expression disappeared. “ It is true, 
he said, “ your sons, madame, ought to be envie I 
such a mother. They will owe you many thanks, 
for it is you, madame, who have saved Prussia b; 


QUEEN LOUISA AND NAPOLEON. 


131 


your eloquence and noble bearing. I repeat to 
you once more that I shall do what I can to fulfil 
your wishes. We shall confer further about it. 
At present, I have the honor to take leave of 
yoxir majesty.” 

He offered his hand to the queen. “ Sire,” 
she said, profoundly affected, “ I hope that, after 
making the acquaintance of the hero of the cen- 
tury, you will permit me to remember in you the 
generous conqueror as well as the man of genius.” 
Napoleon silently kissed her hand, and, bowing to 
the king, left the room. 

“ Oh ! ” exclaimed the queen, when she was 
alone with her husband, “ perhaps it was not in 
vain that I came hither ; God may have imparted 
strength to my words, and they may have moved 
the heart of this all-powerful man, sO that he will 
acknowledge our just demands, and shrink from 
becoming the robber of our property.” 

In the mean time Napoleon returned to his 
quarters, accompanied by Talleyrand. But when 
the minister, on their arrival at the palace, was 
about to withdraw, the emperor detained him. 
“Follow me into my cabinet,” he said, advancing 
quickly. Talleyrand limped after him, and a 
smile, half scornful, half malicious, played on his 
thin lips. 

“ The hero who wants to rule over the world,” 
said Talleyrand to himself, “ is now seized with a 
very human passion, and I am sure we shall have 
a highly sentimental scene.” He entered the 
room softly, and lurkingly watched every move- 
ment of Napoleon. The emperor threw his small 
hat on one chair, his gloves and sword on another, 
and then paced the room repeatedly. Suddenly 
he stood still in front of Talleyrand and looked 
him full in the face. 

“Were you able to overhear my conversation 
with the queen ? ” he asked. 

“ I was, sire ! ” said Talleyrand, laconically, “ I 
was able to overhear every word.” 

“You know, then, for what purpose she came 
hither,”., exclaimed Napoleon, and commenced 
again pacing-the apartment. 

“ Talleyrand,^’ he said, after a pause, “ I have 
wronged this lady. She is an angel of goodness 
and purity, she is a true woman and a true queen. 
It was a crime for me to persecute her. Yes, I 
confess that I was wrong in offending her. On 
merely hearing the sound of her voice I felt van- 
quished, and was as confused and embarrassed as 
the most timid of men. My hand trembled when 
I offered her the rose. I have slandered her, but 
I will make compensation 1 ” He resumed his 
walk rapidly ; a delicate blush mantled his cheeks, 
and all his features indicated profound emotion. 


Talleyrand, looking as cold and calm as usual, 
still stood at the door, and seemed to watch the 
emperor with the scrutinizing eye of a physician 
observing the crisis of a disease. 

“Yes,” added Napoleon, “I ought certainly to 
compensate her for what I have done. She shall 
weep no more on my account ; she shall no more 
hate and detest me as a heartless conqueror. I 
will show her that I can be magnanimous, and 
compel her to admit that she was mistaken in 
me. I will raise Prussia from the dust. I will 
render her more powerful than ever, and enlarge 
her frontiers instead of narrowing them. And 
then, when her enchanting eyes are filled with 
gladness, I will offer my hand to her husband and 
say to him: ‘You were wrong; you were insin- 
cere toward me, and I punished you for it. Now 
let us forget your defeats and my victories ; in- 
stead of weakening your power, I will increase it 
that you may become my ally, and remain so for- 
ever ! ’ Talleyrand, destroy the conditions I dic- 
tated to you ; send for Count Goltz ; confer with 
him again, and grant his demands ! ” 

“Sire,” exclaimed Talleyrand, apparently in 
dismay, “ sire, shall posterity say that you failed 
to profit by your most splendid conquest, owing 
to the impression a beautiful woman made upon 
you ? ” The emperor started, and Talleyrand ad- 
ded: “Sire, has the blood of your soldiers who 
fell at Jena, at Eylau, and at Friedland, been shed 
in vain, and is it to be washed away by the tears 
of a lady who now appears to be as inoffensive 
as a lamb, but who is to blame for this whole 
war ? Your majesty ought not to forget that the 
Queen of Prussia instigated her husband to begin 
it — that, at the royal palace of Berlin, you took 
a solemn oath to punish her, and to take revenue 
for her warlike spirit, and for the oath over the 
tomb of Frederick the Great! Ah, the queen, 
with Frederick William and the Emperor Alexan- 
der, would exult at your tender-heartedness ; the 
world would wonder at the weakness of the great 
captain who allowed himself to be duped by the 
sighs and seeming humility of the vanquished, 
and — ” 

“ Enough!” interrupted Napoleon, in a power- 
ful voice — “ enough, I say ! ” He walked several 
times up and down, and then stood still again in 
front of Talleyrand. “ Send immediately for 
Count Goltz,” he said imperiously, “ and inform 
him of our ultimatum ! Tell him in plain words 
that all I said to the queen were but polite phrases, 
binding me in no manner, and that I am as firmly 
determined as ever to fix the Elbe as the future 
frontier of Prussia — that there was no question 
of further negotiations — that I had already agreed 


132 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


with the Emperor Alexander as to the various 
stipulations, and that the king owed his lenient 
treatment solely to the chivalrous attachment of 
this monarch, inasmuch as, without his interfer- 
ence, my brother Jerome would have become 
King of Prussia, while the present dynasty would 
have been dethroned. You know my resolutions 
now ; proceed in accordance with them, and has- 
ten the conclusion of the whole affair, that I may 
be annoyed no more. I demand that the treaty 
be signed to-morrow.” 

Prussia’s fate was therefore decided. The 
great sacrifice which the queen had made, and 
with so much reluctance, had been in vain. On 
the 9th of June, 1807, the treaty of Tilsit was 
signed by the representatives of France and Prus- 
sia. By virtue of it King Frederick William lost 
one-half of his territories, consisting of all his 
possessions beyond the Elbe : Old Prussia, Mag- 
deburg, Hildesheim, Westphalia, Friesland, Erfurt, 
Eichsfeld, and Baireuth. The Polish provinces 
were taken from him, as well as a portion of 


West Prussia, the district of Kulm, including the 
city of Thorn, half of the district of the Netze, 
and Dantzic, which was transformed into a free 
city. Besides, the king acknowledged the Con- 
federation of the Bhine, the Kings of Holland 
and Westphalia, Napoleon’s brothers, and engaged 
to close his ports against England. And, as was 
expressly stated in the document, these terms 
were obtained only “ in consideration of the Em- 
peror of Russia, and owing to Napoleon’s sincere 
desire to attach both nations to each other by in- 
dissoluble bonds of confidence and friendship.” 

Eussia, which had signed the treaty on the 
preceding day, gained a large portion of Eastern 
Prussia, the frontier district of Bialystock, and 
thus enriched herself with the spoils taken from 
her own ally. 

Thus Frederick William concluded peace, losing 
his most important territories, and having his 
ten millions of subjects reduced to five millions. 
The genius of Prussia, Queen Louisa, veiled her 
head and wept ! 


I 


BOOK LY'. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

BARON VON STEIN. 

Profound sadness reigned for several weeks at 
the house of Baron Charles von Stein. Tears 
were in the eyes of his children, and whenever 
their mother came from her husband’s room and 
joined them for a moment, they seemed in her 
only to seek comfort and hope. But the anxious 
face of the baroness became more sorrowful, and 
the family physician, who visited the house sev- 
eral times a day, was more taciturn and grave. 
Baron von Stein was ill, and his disease was one 
of those which bafde the skill of the physician, 
because their seat is to be sought less in the body 
than in the mind. Prussia’s misfortunes had 
prostrated Stein. Sick at heart, and utterly 
broken down, at the commencement of 1807, 
after the violent scene with King Frederick Wil- 
liam, he left Konigsberg, and travelled slowly 
toward Nassau. There he met his family, and 
ever since lived in retirement. Never in his grief 
had he uttered a complaint, or manifested any 
loss of temper, but his face had become paler, 
his gait slower, and indicative of increasing weak- 
ness and exhaustion. He yielded at last to the 
tears of his wife, and the repeated remonstrances 
of his physician, to submit to medical treat- 
ment. 

But medicine did not restore him ; his strength 
decreased, and the fever wrecking his body grew 
more violent. The disease had recently, however, 
assumed a definite character ; the news of the 
disaster of Friedland, and of the humiliating 
treaty of Tilsit, had violently shaken his consti- 
tution, and the physician was now able to discern 
the true character of the malady and give it a 
name. It was the tertian fever which alternately 
reddened and paled the baron’s cheeks, at times 
paralyzing his clear, powerful mind, or moving 


his lips to utter unmeaning words, the signs of 
his delirium. 

Baron von Stein had just undergone another 
attack of his dangerous disease. All night long 
his devoted wife had watched at his bedside, and 
listened despondingly to his groans, his fantastic 
expressions, his laughter and lamentations. In 
the morning, the sufferer had grown calmer ; con- 
sciousness had retui’ned, and his eyes sparkled 
again with intelligence. The fever had left him, 
but he was utterly prostrated. The physician 
had just paid him a visit, and examined his con- 
dition in silence. “ Dear doctor,” whispered the 
baroness, as he was departing, “ you find my hus- 
band very ill, I suppose ? Oh, I read it in your 
face ; I perceive from your emotion that you have 
not much hope of his recovery ! ” And the tears 
she knew how to conceal in the sick-room fell 
without restraint. 

“ He is very ill,” said the physician, thought- 
fully, “ but I do not believe his case to be en- 
tirely hopeless ; for an unforeseen circumstance 
may come to our assistance and give his mind 
some energy, when it will favorably influence the 
body. If the body alone were suffering, science 
would suggest ways and means to cure a disease 
which, in itself, is easily overcome. The tertian 
fever belongs neither to the dangerous acute dis- 
eases nor to any graver class. But, in this case, 
it is only the external eruption of a disease seated 
in the patient’s mind.” 

“ Whence, then, is recovery to come in these 
calamitous and depressing times ? ” said the 
baroness, mournfully. “ His grief at the misfor- 
tunes of Prussia is gnawing at his heart, and all 
the mortifications and misrepresentations he has 
suffered at the hands of the very men whom he 
served with so much fidehty have pierced his soul 
like poisoned daggers. Oh, I shall never pardon 
the king that he could so bitterly mortify and 
humble my noble husband, who is enthusiastically 


134 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


devoted to Prussia — ^that he could mistake his 
character so grievously, and prefer such cruel 
charges against him. He called him — the best, 
the most intelligent and reliable of all his ser- 
vants — a seditious man; he charged him with 
being self-willed, stubborn, and proud, and said 
he was mischievous and disobedient to the state. 
Oh, believe me, that accusation is what troubles 
Stein ! The King of Prussia has humbled his 
pride so deeply and unjustly, that a reconciliation 
between them is out of the question. Stein lives, 
thinks, and grieves only for his country, and yet 
the insulting vehemence and unfeeling words of 
the king have rendered it impossible for him ever 
to reenter the Prussian service. He sees that 
his country is sinking every day, and that she is 
ruined not only by foreign enemies, but by do- 
mestic foes preying at the vitals of her adminis- 
tration. He would like to help her — he feels that 
he has stored up the means to do so in his expe- 
rience — and yet he cannot. I ask you, therefore, 
my friend, where is the balm for his wounded 
soul ? ” 

“ I do not know,” said the physician, “ but 
we must get it. Germany has not now so many 
high-minded and courageous men that she could 
spare one, and the best of them all. The genius 
of Germany will assuredly find a remedy to save 
her noble champiqn, Baron von Stein.” 

“ Ah, you believe still in the genius of Ger- 
many ? ” asked the baroness, mournfully. “ You 
see all the horrors, the shame, the degradation 
'' that Germany, and especially Prussia, have to 
suffer ! The calamities of our country, then, my 
friend, have transformed you into a believer, and 
made of the rationalist a mystic, believing in 
miracles? You know I was hitherto pious, and 
a faithful believer, but now I begin to doubt. 
Now I ask myself anxiously whether there really 
is a God in heaven, who directs and ordains every 
thing, and yet permits us to be thus trampled in 
the dust.” 

“ Our duty is, perhaps, to strengthen ourselves 
by misfortunes,” said the physician. “ Germany 
was sleeping so profoundly that she could only be 
aroused by calamity, a«d become fully alive to 
her degrading position. But, believe me, she is 
opening her eyes, and seeking for those who can 
help her. She cannot forget Baron von Stein ; 
but must feel that she stands in need of him.” 

“ May you be a true prophet ! ” said the baron- 
ess, sighing, “and that your words — but hark ! ” 
she interrupted herself, “some one is violently 
ringing the door-bell ! He must be a stranger, 
for none of the citizens would announce a 
visit in so noisy a manner. The inhabitants 


manifest sympathy for us ; many come every 
morning to inquire about my husband. With- ^ 
out solicition our neighbors have spread a layer 
of straw in front of the house, and along the 
street, that no noise may disturb the beloved suf- 
ferer, and — ” 

Just then the door opened, and a footman 
stated that a stranger desired to see the baroness 
concerning a matter of great importance. 

“ Me ? ” she asked, wonderingly. 

“ He asked first for Baron von Stein,” replied 
the footman, “ and when I told him that my mas- 
ter was very ill, he seemed alarmed. But he bade 
me announce his visit to the baroness, and tell 
her that he had made a long journey, and was 
the bearer of important news.” 

“Admit him, baroness,” said the physician; 
“he brings, perhaps, news that may be good for 
our patient. As for me, permit me to •with- 
draw.” 

“No, my dear doctor, you must stay,” she 
said. “You are an intimate friend of my hus- 
band and of my family, and this person cannot 
have any thing to say to me that you may not 
hear. Besides, your advice and assistance may 
be necessary ; and if the news should be impor- 
tant for my husband, you ought not to be ab- 
sent.” 

“Well, if you wish me to stay, I will,” said the 
physician ; “ "who knows whether my hopes may 
not be presently realized ? ” 

“Admit the stranger,” said the baroness; and 
he entered a few minutes afterward. 

“ High-Cbamberlain von Schladen ! ” she ex- 
claimed, meeting him. 

“ You recognize me, then, madame ? ” asked M. 
von Schladen. “ The memories of past times 
have not altogether vanished in this house, and 
one may hope — ” At this moment his eyes met 
the physician, and he paused. 

“Doctor von Waldau,” said the baroness, “a 
faithful friend of mj husband, and at present his 
indefatigable physician. He is one of us, and 
you may speak freely in his presence, Mr. Cham- 
berlain.” 

“Permit me, then, to apply to you directly, 
and to ask you whether Baron von Stein is so ill 
that I cannot see him about grave and important 
business ? ” 

“ The baron is very ill,” said the physician, 

“ but there is no immediate danger ; and, as the 
fever has left him to-day, he will be able to con- 
verse about serious matters — that is to say, if 
they are not of a very sad and disheartening 
character.” 

“Grief for Prussia’s misfortunes is my bus- 


BARON VON STEIN. 


135 


baud’s disease,” said the baroness ; “ consider 
well, therefore, if what you intend telling him will 
aggravate it, or bring him relief. If a change for 
the better has taken place — if you bring him the 
news that that disgraceful treaty of Tilsit has 
been repudiated, and that the war will continue, 
it will be a salutary medicine, and, in spite of the 
warlike character of your news, you will appear 
as an angel of peace at his bedside. But if you 
come only to confirm the disastrous tidings that 
have prostrated him, it may cause his death.” 

“ I do not bring any warlike tidings,” said M. 
von Schladen, sadly ; “ I do not bring intelligence 
that the treaty of Tilsit has been repudiated ! 
Hence, I cannot, as you say, appear as an angel 
of peace. Nevertheless, I do not come croaking 
of our disasters. I come in the name of, and 
commissioned by Prussia, to -remind Baron von 
Stein of the words he uttered to the queen when 
he took leave of her. You, sir, being his phy- 
sician, are alone able to decide whether I may see 
him, and lay my communication before him. For 
this reason I must tell you more explicitly why 
I have come. You permit me to do so, I suppose, 
baroness ? ” 

“Oh, speak! my heart is yearning for your 
words ! ” exclaimed the baroness. 

“ I come to see Baron von Stein, not merely 
because I long to speak to the man for whom I 
entertain so much love and respect,” said M. von 
Schladen, “ but I come in the name of the king 
and queen. I bring him letters from Ministex von 
Hardenberg, from the Princess Louisa von Radzi- 
will, and from General Blucher, and verbal com- 
munications from the queen. I have travelled 
without taking a moment’s rest in order to deliver 
my letters as soon as possible, and to inform the 
baron of the. wishes of their majesties. And now 
that I have arrived at my destination, I find the 
man sick in bed who is the only hope of Prussia. 
You will, perhaps, even shut his door against me, 
and all the greetings of love, the solicitations and 
supplications which I bring, will not reach him ! 
It would be a heavy misfortune for Prussia and 
for the deeply-affiicted king, who is looking hope- 
fully toward Baron von Stein 1 ” 

“ He is looking hopefully toward my husband,” 
exclaimed the baroness, reproachfully, “ and yet 
it was he who insulted the baron in so grievous a 
manner I ” 

“ But the king repents of it, and desires to in- 
demnify him for it,” said M. von Schladen. “ I 
come to request Baron von Stein to return to 
Prussia, and to become once more the king’s 
minister and adviser.” 

“Oh,” exclaimed the physician, joyfully, “you 


see now that I am a true prophet. The genius 
of Germany has found a remedy to cure our noble 
sufferer.” 

“ You permit me, then, to speak to him ? ” 
asked Mr von Schladen. 

“I request you to do so,” replied the phy- 
sician. “ I demand that you go to him immedi- 
ately, and speak to him freely and unreservedly. 
His mind is in need of a vigorous shock to be- 
come again conscious of its own strength ; when 
it has regained this consciousness, the body will 
rise from its prostration.” 

“ Doctor, I am somewhat afraid,” said the 
baroness, anxiously. “ He was of late so nervous 
and irritable, you know, that the most trifling 
occurrence caused him to tremble and covered 
his brow with perspiration. I am afraid these stir- 
ring communications may make too powerful an 
impression upon him.” 

“ Never mind,” exclaimed the physician ; “ let 
them make a powerful impression upon him — let 
them even cause him to faint— I do not fear the 
consequences in the least ; on the contrary, I 
desire them, for the shock of his nervous system 
will be salutary, and bring about a crisis that will 
lead to his recovery.” 

“ But, doctor, excuse me, you know he had a 
raging fever all night, and is exhausted. What 
good will it do to communicate .the news to him ? 
He cannot obey the king’s call, and, at best, 
w'eeks must ' past before recovering sufficiently to 
attend to state matters,” 

“Ah, Baron von Stein accomplishes in days 
what others perform only in weeks,” exclaimed 
the physician, smiling. “ He is one of those men 
whose mind has complete control of his body.< In 
his case, if you cure the one you cure the other.” 

“ But I doubt whether my husband will accept 
these offers of the king,” said the baroness, hesi- 
tatingly ; “ he has been insulted too grossly.” 

“But he is a patriot in the best sense of the 
word,” said M. von Schladen; “he will forget 
personal insult when the welfare of the people is 
at stake.” 

“ And even though he should not accept,” said 
the physician, “he receives at least a gratifying 
satisfaction in the king’s offer, and that will as- 
suredly be a balm for his wounds. I shalji now 
go to him once more. If he is entirely free from 
fever, I will let you come in, and you may tell him 
every thing.” 

“ But you will not go away,” said the baroness ; 
“ you will stay here, so as to be at hand in case 
any thing should happen.” 

“ I shall remain in this room,” said the phy- 
sician, “ and you may call me if necessary. Now 


136 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


let me see first how our patient is, and whether I 
may announce M. von Schladen’s visit. He has- 
tened back into the sick-room without waiting 
for a reply ; the baroness sank down on a chair, 
and, folding her trembling hands, prayed fer- 
vently. High-Chamberlain von Schladen looked 
at the door by which the physician had disap- 
peared, and his face expressed suspense and im- 
patience. 

At length the door opened again, and the phy- 
sician appeared on the threshold. “ High-Cham- 
berlain von Schladen,” he said aloud, “ come in ; 
Baron von Stein awaits you.” 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE PATRIOT. 

High-Chamberlain von Schladen entered the 
sick-room on tiptoe, preceded by the Baroness von 
Stein, who, hastening to her husband, looked at 
him an^ously. In fact, the baron looked very 
ill. His cheeks were hollow and deadly pale ; his 
eyes lay deep in their sockets, and were flashing 
with that peculiar light emanating from the fever ; 
his thin lips were parched, and he constantly tried 
to moisten them vdth his tongue, while his breath- 
ing was very painful. 

M. von Schladen looked in profound emotion at 
the patient, and a feeling of melancholy was ap- 
parent. He was obliged to acknowledge that 
the baroness was right, and that this wasted form 
was not able to I’ise to obey the king’s call ; he 
believed that he had come in vain, and would be 
compelled to leave without having accomplished 
any thing, and this conviction was accompanied 
with a sigh. The sick man heard it, and a faint 
smile passed over, his features. “You find me 
very ill then, M. von Schladen ? ” he asked in a 
tremulous voice. “ I suppose I am but the 
shadow of the healthy, vigorous man who took 
leave of you at Kbnigsberg a few months since ? 
You see, I am still unable to give up my sympa- 
thies for Prussia ; indeed, I am like her in every 
respect. Prussia is also but a shadow of what she 
was a short time ago ; she is undergoing her death- 
struggle, and will succumb unless a strong arm 
soon lift her up.” 

“ But this strong arm will come,” said M. von 
'Schladen. 

“ You believe so ? ” asked Stein. “Would you 
■were right ! But all I hear is disheartening. We , 
live in a period of degradation and servitude, 
when w'e can do nothing better than seek a refuge 


in the grave, the only place where we may find 
liberty. You see that I am already on the brink. 
But I will not now speak of myself, but of you. 
What brought you hither ? To what lucky acci- 
dent am I indebted for your visit ? My physician 
has told me you had casually stopped in this town, 
and being informed of my illness had desired to 
see me. What is your destination ? ” 

“ I am returning to Memel, to the King and 
Queen of Prussia,” said M. von Schladen. 

“Ah, you are a faithful servant, and I envy 
you,” said Baron von Stein, “for your services are 
gratefully accepted ; you are not treated with con- 
tumely, and your zeal is not regarded as malice 
and self-will. You may assist your country with 
your head, your arm, and your heart. You are 
not doomed to step aside, and idly dream away 
your days instead of seeking relief in useful activ- 
ity. Oh, I repeat again, I envy you ! ” While 
he was speaking, his pale cheeks had assumed 
some color, and his voice, which, at first, had 
been faint, grew louder. But now, exhausted by 
the effort, and by his profound emotion, he sank 
back on the pillow and closed his eyes. 

His wife bent over him, and wiped off the per- 
spiration which covered his brow in large drops. 
In the open door leading into the adjoining room, 
appeared the kind face of the physician, wdio 
looked scrutinizingly at the patient. He then 
nodded in a satisfied manner, and whispered to 
the high-chamberlain : “ Go on ! go on ! Tell 
him every thing. He can bear it.” 

Baron von Stein opened his ey^es again and 
glanced at M. von Schladen. “ You did not yet 
tell me whence you came, my dear friend ? ” he 
said. “Was your journey a mere pleasure-trip, 
or were graver purposes connected with it ? ” 

“ It was no pleasure-trip, for what German 
cares nowadays for such things ? ” said M. von 
Schladen. “My purpose, in undertaking this 
journey, was not only a grave, but a sacred one. 
I undertook it for the welfare of our country, and 
I come to solicit your advice. I know you loved 
Prussia once ; you will not, although you are no 
longer in her service, wuthhold your sympathy 
from her ; wUen you can be useful, you will joy- 
fully render her aid, will you not ? ” 

“ Yes, indeed I will,” exclaimed Baron von 
Stein ; “ my thoughts were with you all the time ; 
my grief arises from ymur affliction and the mis- 
fortunes of Prussia ; every new blow inflicted 
upon her fell on me, and her ruin prostrated me. 
Tell me, in what way can I aid you ? ” 

“Your excellency, by assisting me in finding 
the man whom I am seeking ; on whom the eyes 
of all good Prussians are fixed, and who is alone 


THE PATRIOT. 


137 


able to save the country, to reestablish its pros- 
perity at home, and to obtain for it respect and 
authority abroad. The man whom the queen calls 
her friend, and of whom she expects help — ^to 
whom the king offers his hand, and whom he begs 
(understand me well, begs) to sustain him with 
his strong arm and his powerful mind, and, for the 
sake of Prussia, not to remember the wrongs he 
suffered in by-gone days — your excellency, I am 
seeking this high-minded man, who forgets insults, 
and yet does not close his ears against the cry of 
Ms country ; whom adversity does not deter, and 
v^om the burden to be laid on his shoulders does 
not cause to tremble ; who forgets his own inter- 
ests in order to have the satisfaction of saving a 
state to which, from his youth, he has devoted 
his strength — the man in whom all patriots con- 
fide, whom Hardenberg, when Napoleon’s despot- 
ic will compelled him to resign his office, pointed 
out to the king as the only one by whom Prussia 
might still be redeemed. Your excellency, can 
you tell me where I may find this man ? ” 

While M. von Schladen was speaking, Stein 
slowly raised his head to listen. His countenance 
had undergone a marvellous change ; his features 
had regained their wonted expression, and his 
eyes beamed with energy. 

“ Your excellency,” asked Schladen again, 
“ can you tell me where I may find this man for 
whom all Prussia is calling ? ” 

“ You have not yet told me his name,” whis- 
pered Baron von Stein. “ To find him it is neces- 
sary to know his name.” 

“ His name is on this letter which the Princess 
von Radziwill requested me to dehver to him,” 
said Schladen, taking one from his memorandum- 
book, and handing it to the patient. 

Baron von Stein quickly took it, and, on look- 
ing at the superscription, he muttered, “ My 
name ! my name is on the letter ! ” 

“ And it is your name that is now on all Prus- 
sian lips — that the queen is calling from afar — 
that the king — ” 

“Ah,” interrupted Baron von Stein, “the king 
has insulted me too deeply ; I should almost dis- 
honor myself if I forget it ! ” 

“You will shed the most radiant honor on 
your name by forgiving it,” exclaimed M. de 
Schladen. “ The king has commissioned me to 
tell you that he hopes in you alone. He will in- 
trust to you the department of the interior and of 
finance ; he assures you of his most implicit con- 
fidence ; he promises never to alfude again to 
what has passed between him and you. Here, 
your excellency, is a communication from Minister 
^ von Hardenberg, which will confirm all I ha re said.” 


He laid another letter on the table. Baron 
von Stein took it and looked at the address with 
a faint smile. “ It is Hardenberg’s handwriting,” 
he said ; “ he is a genuine courtier, and takes it 
always for granted that the king’s will is a sacred 
law for every one. He calls me already ‘ Prussian 
Minister of Finance.’ And the queen ? ” he then 
asked, raising his eyes to M. von Schladen. 
“ What does she say ? ” Does she believe, too, 
that I can forget, forgive, and return ? ” 

“ The queen believes it, because she wishes it, 
your excellency. ‘ Stein is my last consolation,’ 
she said to me when I took leave of her. ‘ Being 
a man of magnanimity and the keenest sagacity, 
he may be able to discover ways and means of 
saving the country that are as yet concealed 
from us. Tell him that, when he comes, the sun 
wiU rise again for me ; tell him to remember the 
sacred vow I received from him to stand faithfully 
by us, and to come when Prussia stands in need 
of him, and calls him to her assistance. Tell 
him that his queen prays Heaven to restore to her 
country the man who is a defence against wrong 
and injustice, and one of the noblest sons of Ger- 
many. ’ ” 

Baron von Stein cast down his eyes ; his lips 
were trembling ; and tears rolled slowly down his 
cheeks. 

“ Your excellency,” said M. von Schladen, 
urgently, “ will you not read the letters ? That 
from the Princess Louisa von Radziwill will give 
you a more graphic description of the present 
situation of the court than I am able to do ; the 
one from Minister von Hardenberg will tell you 
what to do, and how important and necessary it is 
that you should come as speedily as possible. 
In Hardenberg’s letter you will also find a brief 
note from General Bliicher, who joins in these 
solicitations. I have been permitted to read 
these letters, that, if they were lost on the way, 
I should, nevertheless, be able to communicate 
their contents to you. Will you not read 
them ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Baron von Stein, breathing more 
freely, “ I will j:ead them. They are the first 
doves that, after the long deluge of affliction, 
come to me with an olive-branch of peace. I will 
see' what the letters contain.” He hastily opened 
that from the Princess Louisa and convnenced 
reading it. But the paper soon dropped from his 
hand ; a death-like pallor overspread his cheeks, 
and, almost fainting, he fell back on the pillow. 
“ Alas,” he murmured mournfully, “ I forget that 
I am a poor, sick man! I cannot read; the 
letters swim before my eyes ! ” But this faint- 
ness lasted! only a moment ; Stein then raised his 


138 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


head again, and turned his eyes with a tender ex- 
pression toward his wife, who was sitting at his 
bedside, and watching all his movements with 
anxious suspense. “ Dear Wilhelmina,” he said, 
“ you have been my secretary during the last few 
weeks, and have rendered evil tidings less disa- 
greeable to me ; will you not read these cheering 
letters to me ? ” 

The baroness bent over him, and, in place of a 
reply, kissed his forehead. She then read as 
follows : 

“Your friend Hardenberg and the newspapers 
will have informed you of the melancholy end of 
all our hopes. Cowardice and weakness, perhaps 
more than the luck of our enemies, have subjuga- 
ted us, and Hardenberg’s resignation, which he 
tendered voluntarily, in order to be useful to us 
even by this sacrifice, and to preserve the king 
from the humiliation of dismissing him, causes us 
to feel our yoke painfully. I promised to write to 
you about the king. He deserves our sympathy 
at this moment ; his courage and firmness have 
not been shaken by our last disasters ; he was 
ready to make any sacrifice, because he thought 
it better to fall nobly than to live dishonorably. 
He clung with sincere attachment to your friend 
Hardenberg, and just at this moment when all 
are deserting him, when he has neither power nor 
will, he loses this well-tried friend, who, actuated 
by his love of the country, and affection for his 
master, left him with a grief that deeply moved 
my heart. At this moment the eyes of us all 
are turning toward you, my dear Stein. From 
you we hope for consolation, and for forgetful- 
ness of the wrongs which have removed you from 
us, and which you will be too generous to remem- 
ber at a time when he who insulted you only de- 
serves your sympathy and assistance. Can you 
withstand our solicitations? Can you see this 
country deserted, and refuse to it the cooperation 
of those talents that alone are able to raise us 
from our prostration ? Hardenberg sees no other 
hope for his master than in you, and if you are 
not restored to us — if you do not yield to the 
wishes of those yearning for you, what is to be- 
come of our future ? 

“ I admit that to call upon you to share our 
fortune is to deem you capable of the greatest 
disinterestedness ; for nothing has ever been done 
by you to deserve the conduct formerly manifested 
toward you ; but your soul is too generous to re- 
member those insults, and I know you too well not 
to be sure that you will unhesitatingly come to the 
assistance of this unfortunate prince, who for five 
months possesses just claims to sympathy. Even 
at this juncture he maintains bis dignity ; he has 


gained friends and zealous adherents, and appears 
to me never more estimable than since these dis- 
asters, in which I have seen him assert a courage 
and resignation of which I should never have 
deemed him capable. It grieved me to see Har- 
denberg depart ; he himself is very sad, and I 
am sure that only the hope of restoring you to 
the service of his master sustains him. Do not 
refuse to comply with our request, my dear Stein, 
and be not as cruel as that destiny wLich is tak- 
ing from us all the distinguished characters that 
were able to reconcile us with life and mankii^. 

I look for your reply with impatience ; may it 
favorable to us ! It needs no assurance of mine 
to make you believe in the affectionate and con- 
stant attachment which I have always felt for 
you. “ Louisa.” 

Stein listened to the letter with eyes half closed. 
A faint blush had gradually suffused his cheeks, 
and a smile was playing on his lips. “ And what 
do you think of this letter, Wilhelmina ? ” he then 
asked. “What does your heart reply to this 
call ? ” 

“ I am fearful for you, my beloved friend,” said 
the baroness, mournfully. “My heart shrinks 
from this career into which you will reenter, and 
in which you will be exposed again to ingratitude, 
and the persecutions of your enemies.” 

“Not to ingratitude,” said M. von Bchladen. 
“ All Prussia will be grateful to you, and the king 
will be the first to thank and reward you with his 
friendship for having complied with his invitation. 
Your excellency, will you not read the letter from 
Minister von Hardenberg? It will tell you in the 
most convincing manner how firmly you may rely 
on the king and on his gratitude, and how neces- 
sary it is that you should repair to him as soon as 
possible.” 

“No, no, I will not hear any more,” exclaimed 
Stein, in a loud voice. “ It shall not be said that 
the flattering w^ords of a friend induced me to do 
what is my duty. Call the doctor ; I must see the 
doctor ! ” • 

“ The doctor is here,” said Dr. von Waldau, en- 
tering the room. “When patients are able to 
shout in such stentorian tones, they must indeed 
stand in need of assistance.” 

“ Doctor,” exclaimed Stein, “ come here ; feel ' 
my pulse, look me full in the face, and tell me, 
upon your honor, when I shall be able to set out.” 

The physician took the proffered hand and laid 
his finger on the pulse. A pause ensued; aU 
looked in breathless suspense on his face. The 
doctor smilingly nodded. “ It has turned out as 
I predicted,” he exclaimed, “The ‘genius of 
Germany ’ has come to our assistance, and saved 


THE PATRIOT. 


139 


her bravest and noblest champion. The pulse is 
regular and strong, as it has not been for weeks. 
The crisis for which I hoped so long has taken 
place. Baron von Stein, in two weeks you will be 
well enough to set out.” 

“ In two weeks ! ” exclaimed the baron, in a 
contemptuous tone of voice. “ You did not hear, 
then, that Prussia stands in need of me^ that the 
kings calls me, and that Hardenberg tells me it is 
of the highest importance I should immediately 
enter upon the duties of my office ? No, I shall 
depart in two weeks, nor in two days, but im- 
Hiately ! ” He raised himself in his bed, and 
imperiously stretching out his arms, he exclaimed, 
“My clothes! I will rise! I have no more time 
to be sick 1 Give me my clothes !” 

“But my beloved friend,” exclaimed the baron- 
ess, in dismay, “ this is impossible ; just con- 
sider that the fever has exhausted your strength, 
that — ” 

“ Hush, do not contradict him,” whispered the 
physician. “ The cpntradiction would irritate him, 
and might easily bring about a fresh attack of 
fever.” 

“ My clothes ! my clothes 1 ” exclaimed Baron 
von Stein, louder and more imperiously than be- 
fore, and he cast angry glances on his wife. 

The physician himself hastened to the clothes- 
press, and, taking the silken dressing-gown from 
it, carried it to the patient. “ Here is your d^ss- 
ing-gown,” he said ; “ let me be your 
chambreP Baron von Stein thanked him with a'' 
smile, and lifted up his arms that the garmeut 
might be wrapped around him. 

“ And here are your slippers,” said the baron- 
ess ; “ let me put them on your feet.” 

“And permit me to support you when you 
rise,” said M. von Schladen, approaching the 
bed. “ Oh, lean on me only for a moment ; after- 
ward the whole of Prussia will lean on you.” 

Baron von Stein made no reply. He put on the 
dressing-gown and the slippers, and then raised 
himself, assisted by M. von Schladen. But his 
face was pallid, and large drops of perspiration 
gathered on his forehead. He left his couch, and 
stood free and erect. “ I am well again 1 ” he ex- 
claimed. “ Prussia calls me 1 I am not allowed 
to be ill ; I — ” His voice died away in a faint 
groan ; his head bent down, and his form sank to 
the floor. M. von Schladen and the baroness 
caught him in their arms, and placed him again 
on his bed. 

“Doctor,” exclaimed the Jjgroness, in a mena- 
cing tone, “ if he die, you ^e his murderer ; you 
have killed him ! ” 

“No,” said the physician, quietly, ^tfatave 


saved him. This swoon is the last struggle of 
death with triumphant life. When Baron von 
Stein awakes he wiU be no longer seriously ill, but 
convalescent. When he is conscious again, the 
crisis is over. See, he begins to stir I Ah, his 
brave mind will not suffer his body to rest, and 
will assuredly awaken it.” 

The baron very soon opened his eyes, and looked 
with a perfectly calm and conscious expression, first 
at his wife, then at the physician and the king’s 
messenger. “ M. von Schladen,” he said, will you 
read to me Hardenberg’s letter? Wilhelmina, 
lay your. arm around me and support my head a 
little. Waldau is right ; I will not be able to set 
out to-day. I am still very weak.” 

“ But you will be able to set out in ten days,” 
exclaimed the physician. “You see I yield to 
you. I ask no longer for two weeks, but only for 
ten days.” 

Baron von Stein gave him his hand with a 
grateful glance. “ And now, High-Chamberlain von 
Schladen, I request you to read once more Har- 
denberg’s communication.” M. von Schladen 
looked inquiringly at the physician, who nodded 
his consent. 

“ Read, read,” said the baron, entreatingly, 
supporting his head against his wife’s shoulder. M. 
von Schladen opened the letter, and laid General 
Bliicher’s no^e, enclosed in it, on the table and 
commenced reading. 

The letter urgently requested Baron von Stein 
to accept the two departments of finance and of 
the interior, which the king wished to intrust to 
him because the welfare of Prussia required it. 
Besides, Hardenberg asked Stein to repair imme- 
diately to the king, because it was of the highest , 
importance that the ears of Frederick William 
should not be besieged again by hostile insinua- 
tions. lie gave him cautious hints as to the 
manner in which he would have to win the con- 
fidence of Frederick William, and assured him that 
he would retain it, provided he never pretended to 
rule over the king. He called upon him in the 
name of Prussia and Germany not to decline the 
difficult task, but to fulfil the hopes which patriots 
were reposing in him. He advised him to impose 
such conditions as he might deem prudent before 
accepting the offer, and to address a letter to his 
majesty in regard to them. 

A pause ensued. Stein had listened to the 
words of his friends in silence. All looked at him 
anxiously. His face was calm, and when he 
slowly opened his eyes, they indicated entire com- 
posure. 

“ Iligh-chambeidain von Schladen,” asked Stein, 
“you have made the long journey from Memel to 


140 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


this place for no other purpose than to deliver to 
me tnese letters and the order of the king ? ” 

“ It was the only object of my journey,” said M. 
von Schladen. “I travelled by way of Copenha- 
gen and Hamburg, in order to avoid French spies.” 

“ And when do you intend setting out again ? ” 
asked the baron. 

“Your excellency, as soon as I have obtained a 
reply.” 

“’Ah,” exclaimed Stein, with a gentle smile; 
“ you want to prevent me, then, from writing im- 
mediately, that I may retain you for some time as 
a welcome guest ? ” 

“No, your excellency, let me entreat you to 
give me at once your reply to the solicitations 
with which the king and the queen — all Prussia — 
nay, all Germany turn to you, and implore you to 
lend to the fiitherland your strong arm.” 

“ Alas, my hand is so feeble that it can scarce- 
ly hold a pen ! ” said Baron von Stein, sighing. 
“ Wilbelmina, you are always my kind and oblig- 
ing friend — will you now also lend me your hand, 
and be my secretary ? ” 

The baroness cast a mournful and loving look 
on him. “ I read in your eyes,” she said, sadly, 
“ that you have made up yoUr mind, and that, 
even though I implore you to desist for my sake 
and that of our children, it would be in vain. "VVe 
shall lose you again ; your house and my heart 
will be lonely, and only my thoughts will travel 
with you ! But it hardly becomes me to dissuade 
you from your purpose. In these days of general 
distress it does not behoove German patriots to 
confine themselves to the happiness of their own 
firesides, and to shut their ears against the cries 
of the fatherland. Your heart, I know, belongs to 
me. Your mind and your abilities belong to the 
world. Go, then, my beloved husband, and do 
your duty ; I will fulfil mine.” She kissed the 
baron’s forehead, and then stepped to the table 
at the window. “ Your secretary is ready,” she 
said, taking the pen ; tell me what to write.” 

Baron von Stein raised himself, and dictated in a 
firm voice as follows : 

“ To THE King’s Majesty : — ^Your gracious or- 
ders and the ofiTer of the department of the interior, 
have been communicated to me by a letter from 
Minister von Hardenb^, de daio Memel, July 10, 
which I received on thl^th of August. I accept 
the office unconditionallyl^ and leave it to your 
royal majesty to arrange with what persons, or in 
what relations to my colleagues, J am to discharge 
my duties. At this moment of my country’s dis- 
tress it would be wrong to consult my own per- 
sonal grievances, particularly as your majesty 
manifests so exalted a constancy in adversity. 


“ I should have set out immediately, but a vio- > 
lent tertian fever is confining me to my bed ; 
as soon as my health is better, which I trust will 
be the case in ten days or two weeks, I shall 
hasten to your majesty. Your obedient servant, 

“ Stein.” 

Baron von Stein kept his word. Two weeks 
afterward, although still suffering and feeble, he 
entered his travelling-coach to repair to Memel, 
and to hold again in his powerful hands the reins 
of the Prussian government. 



OHAPTEE XXXIII. 

JOHANNES VON MULLER. 

The French authorities had informed the muni- 
cipality of Berlin that peace had been concluded 
at Tilsit, between the Emperor of the French and 
the King of Prussia. They ordered that the in- 
habitants of Berlin, in view of this important 
event, should manifest their gratification in a pub- 
lic manner. German singers were to perform a 
Te Deum at the cathedral in honor of this trea- 
ty, and at night the people were to show, by a 
general illumination, that they rejoiced at the 
restoration of peace. The rulers of the city had 
issued orders to this effect, and the citizens were 
obliged to obey, although deeply affected by the 
humiliating terms of the treaty, which the Berlin 
Telegraph had communicated in a jubilant edito- 
rial. The capital of Prussia had to celebrate the 
disgrace of the country by a festive illumina- 
tion. But the public officials could not compel 
the people to give their hearts to such outward 
rejoicings, or even to manifest their approval by 
their presence. At the cathedral, the organist 
with his choristers sang the ordered Te Deum 
to the accompaniment of kettle-drums, but the 
church was empty. Only the French officers and 
a few hired renegades witnessed the solemnity. 

At night, all Berlin was in a blaze of colored 
flame, but the streets were deserted. No glad 
populace were thronging them — no cheering or 
merry laughter was to be heard ; only here and 
there, troops of French soldiers were loitering and 
singing loudly ; or a crowd of idlers, such as are 
to he found wherever their curiosity can be grati- 
fied, and who, devoid of honor and character, are 
the same in all cities. The better classes remained 
at home, and disdained to cast even a fugitive 
glance on the dazzling scene. Nowhere had more 
lights been kindled than were ordered by the 
Frepe^^qUiorities. At one house, however, on 


JOHANNES VON MULLER. 


141 


Behren Street, a more brilliant illumination was to 
be seen ; variegated lamps were there artisticallly 
grouped around two busts that stood in strange 
liarmony, side by side, and excited the astonish- 
ment of all passers-by. They were the busts of 
Frederick the Great and Napoleon, on whose fore- 
heads beamed the same radiant light. At this 
house lived Johannes von Muller, the historian of 
Switzerland, who had caused this exhibition to be 
made^ and who surveyed his work with smiling 
face. “ It is all right,” he said to himself, “ it is 
a beautiful spectacle — those splendid heads ; and 
it does my heart good that I have succeeded in 
this annoyance to my opponents. They shall see 
that I am not afraid of their attacks, and that I' 
am quietly pursuing my career, in spite of their 
slanders. They call me a renegade, because I did 
not escape with the rest ; they call me a friend of 
the French, because I delivered a French address 
at the Academy on the birthday of Frederick the 
Great, and their vulgar minds were displeased 
because in that speech I dared to compare Napo- 
leon with Frederick. It is also distasteful to 
them that I have renounced the title of secret 
councillor of war, and call myself, briefly and 
simply, Johannes Miiller. As if a title were not 
a superfluous addition to Johannes Muller, whom 
Germany loved before he had a title, and whom 
she will love when he has one no longer. Yes, 
my enemies envy my glory, they call me a friend 
of the French simply because I do not abuse them 
in their absence, and in their presence keep quiet 
and assume a stupid indifference. I keep my 
hands free ; I write openly ; I am no hidden re- 
viler of the French, but a public worshipper of all 
that is sublime. For this reason I have placed 
here, side by side, the busts of the two greatest 
men to whom the last century has given birth. 
And now, great heroes ! shine calmly in the ra- 
diance which a man whom the people have hon- 
ored with the name of the German Tacitus, has 
kindled for you ! Shed your lustre on the city, and 
tell the Germans that Johannes von Muller does"' 
homage to genius, regardless of nationality or 
birth ! Watch over the study of the historian, 
and while he works guard him from the spirits of 
evil ! ” He waved his hands to the busts, and was 
about to sit down to his books and papers, when 
his old servant entered to inform him that a gen- 
tleman wished to see the councillor of war imme- 
diately. 

“ Michael Fuchs,” exclaimed Muller, “ how 
often have I told you not to address me by that 
absurd title, which, I hope, I shall soon cast off as 
the ripe chestnut its capsule. Councillor of War ! 
For my part, I never counselled any one to com- 


mence this senseless war, and now that there is 
peace, I scarcely regard myself as a Prussian 
functionary ; and yet you continue repeating that 
ridiculous title ! ” 

“Well, well,” said the old servant, smiling, 
“ when we received that title four years ago, we 
were overjoyed and felt very proud. It is true, 
times have changed, and I believe that Clarke, 
the French general, with whom we dined again to- 
day, does not like the title much. We may, there- 
fore, cast it aside. But, sir, while we are quarrel- 
ling here, the gentleman outside is waiting to be 
admitted.” 

“You are right, Michael Fuchs,” said Johannes 
von Muller, in a gentle tone, as if he desired to 
pacify him ; “ let the stranger come in.” 

Old Michael nodded pleasantly to his master. 
Opening the door and stepping out, he said aloud ; 
“ Come in, sir ! I have amiounced you, and M. 
von Muller awaits you.” 

“ He is a very good, faithful old fellow ! ” mur- 
mured Johannes von Muller, meeting the visitor 
who was entering the room. 

“Oh, M. von Nostitz,” exclaimed Muller, joy- 
ously, “ you here in Berlin ! I thought you were 
on your estates.” 

“ I was not on my estates, but at Memel with 
our king,” said M. von Nostitz, gravely. “ Honored 
with some commissions by his majesty, I have ar- 
rived here, and as one of them concerns you, Mr. 
Councillor, I have hastened to call upon you.” 

“ The king, then, has received my letter at 
last and grants my resignation ? ” asked Muller, 
quickly. 

“ The king has received your letter,” replied 
M. von Nostitz. 

“ And my resignation ? You come to notify 
me that it has been accepted ? ” exclaimed Muller, 
impatiently. 

“ Then you are really in earnest about your re- 
quest?” asked M. von Nostitz, almost sternly. 
“ I must tell you that none of us would believe it, 
and that I have come to entreat you in the name 
of the king and the queen — in the name of all 
your friends, who, faithful to their duty, followed 
the royal couple, to change your mind and remain 
with us. The queen, especially, refuses to believe 
that Johannes von Muller, the great historian, who, 
but a few months ago, spok^nd wrote for Prussia 
with so ardent an enthusiasm, now intends to 
leave us voluntarily and to escape in faithless 
egptism from the calamities that have overwhelmed 
us all. I am to beg you in the name of the queen to 
remain with us. Her majesty cannot and will not 
believe that you are in earnest about this resolu- 
tion to resign your office and leave the country 


142 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


1 


She has commissioned me to beg you not to treat 
the state at this critical juncture in so ignominious 
a manner as to despair of it, and assures you that 
your salary will always be punctually paid. She 
admonishes you through me to think of your 
numerous friends here, of the favorable disposi- 
tion of the Prussian government toward you, of 
the agreeable life you are leading in Berlin, and, 
finally, of the work on Frederick the Great, which 
you have just commenced, and to remain in the 
Prussian service.” 

“ The kindness and solicitude manifested by her 
majesty cannot but profoundly touch my heart,” 
exclaimed Muller, in a tremulous voice, “ and I 
wish from the bottom of my heart, which is truly 
loyal and devoted to the royal house of Prussia, 
that I were allowed to comply with these gracious 
words. Her majesty and all my friends know the 
high opinion and sanguine hopes which I enter- 
tain with regard to Prussia, and that I feel con- 
vinced Providence has intrusted to this state the 
championship of truth, liberty, and justice in Ger- 
many. The queen is right also in saying that I 
am leading quite an agreeable life here ; and that 
Berlin, if it should become a great centre of educa- 
tion for the north, would be a highly interesting 
place. It is very true, too, that I have warm 
friends here ; that I am living at a fine villa ; that 
L have no indispensable duties to perform every 
day, and that my salary has hitherto been promptly 
paid. But I confess I feel attracted toward my dear 
friends in Southern Germany and Switzerland. I 
am longing for peace and quiet, to finish my his- 
tory of the land of Tell, but here I do not see 
any prospect of it. I am afraid, on the contrary, 
that the ferment and commotion of affairs will last 
a good while yet. I have been assured that im- 
portant reforms and reductions in the financial 
administration of the country are in contemplation, 
and that men of high rank, who have served the 
state for half a century, and are by no means 
wealthy, will suffer ; how, then, could I hope, that 
these reforms would leave me untouched, when I 
have been but three years in the Prussian ser- 
vice ? ” 

“ That is to say, you are afraid of losing your 
salary, notwithstanding the queen’s assurances ? ” 
asked M. von Nostitz. 

“ That is to say, I am unfortunately not rich 
enough to be contented with less ; I have nothing 
but my salary, and have to pay my debts with it. 
When Prussia lost two-thirds of her revenues, I 
offered to give up my position here, which yields 
me an income of three thousand dollars. I be- 
lieve that was honorable, and will cast no re- 
proach on my character and sentiments.” 


“ That is to say, sir, you tendered your resigna- 
tion because the King of Wurtemberg offered ydu 
a professorship at the University of Tubingen.” 

“ But I should never have accepted it had I not 
deemed it incumbent upon me not to receive any 
money at the hands of Prussia at a time when her 
exchequer is hardly able to pay the salary of a 
superfluous savant. Take into consideration that, 
when I accept this offer, which would first necessi- 
tate my removal from the Prussian service, I can- 
not assuredly be charged with having done so 
from motives of avarice. Other reasons impel 
me to leave a pleasant position in the finest city 
of Germany, and move to a small university town, 
where I shall have only half the salary I am re- 
ceiving here. I shall live in a remote corner of 
the world, but be enabled to lead a calm, undis- 
turbed life, and finish the works I have com- 
menced.” 

“All my remonstrances, the wishes of the 
queen, the exhortations of your friends, are in 
vain, then ? ” asked M. von Nostitz. 

“ I requested his majesty the King of Prussia 
in an autograph letter to accept my resignation,” 
said Muller, evasively ; “ I want, above all, a cate- 
gorical reply whether I must remain or go.” 

“ You may go, sir,” exclaimed Nostitz, almost 
contemptuously. Taking a paper from his memo- 
randum-book, he added, “ here, sir, is your dis- 
mission. I was ordered to deliver it into your 
hands only when my solicitations and the repre- 
sentations made in the name of the queen should 
make no impression upon you. You are free ; the 
king dismisses you from the service ; Prussia has 
nothing further to do with you. Seek your for- 
tune elsewhere ; your glory you will leave here. 
Farewell ! ” Saluting him haughtily, and without , 
giving him time to reply, M. von Nostitz turned 
and left the room. 

Johannes von Muller gazed after him with a 
long, mournful look. “Another man who will 
charge me before my friends and before the world- 
with treachery, perfidy, and meanness ! ” he said, 
shrugging his shoulders. “ Oh, stupidity, and 
empty words ! They want to accuse me of 
treachery because it suits them best, and because 
they refuse to comprehend that a poor savant 
ought at least to be protected from want in order 
to be able to live for science. A reduction of 
salaries and pensions is impending ; I owe it to 
myself and to the works I have commenced, to 
provide against this misfortune, and to seek a 
place where I can labor without being disturbed, 
and, thank God ! I have found it. Now I may 
go to Tubingen, for I am free ! ” He took the 
paper from the table, and hastily breaking the 


JOHANNES VON MULLER. 


143 


seal read the contents. “Yes,” he repeated, 
“ I am free ! I can go. All hail Tiibingen ! so 
near the Alps, so near the grand old forest ! In 
tliy tranquillity I will return to my early enthu- 
siasm as to the bride of my youth ! My his- 
tory of Switzerland will at last be completed and 
bequeathed to posterity ! Already methinks I 
breathe the pure air of the mountains ; and sunny 
Italy, while I cannot return to her, invites me to 
thee, quiet Tubingen ! ” 

Johannes von Muller did not perceive that, 
while he was speaking to himself, the door be- 
hind him had softly opened, and a gentleman, 
wrapped in a cloak, his face shaded by a broad- 
brimmed hat, had entered the room and over- 
heard the last words. The savant, staring at the 
muscular form of this stranger, drew back in sur- 
prise. “ What does this mean ? ” he muttered. 
“ Where is Michael Fuchs ? ” 

“ Michael Fuchs is outside, and considers it 
very natural that an old friend should desire to 
surprise his master-father than be solemnly an- 
nounced,” said the stranger, approaching and 
taking off his hat. 

“ Frederick von Gentz ! ” exclaimed Muller, in 
a joyful voice, yet not altogether free from fear. 
“ My friend, you dare to come hither, and yet you 
must know that the emperor of the French is 
highly exasperated at you ; that he believes you 
to be the author of air'Torts of seditious pam- 
phlets, and that it would be very agreeable to him 
to have you ar^jested and confined.” 

“ Yes, it is true,” said Gentz, in his careless, 
merry way, “dSTapoleon Bonaparte does me the 
honor of being afraid of me and my pen, and 
would like to render me harmless, as he did poor 
Palm. Once I was in imminent danger of falling 
into the hands of his police, and I escaped in dis- 
guise, but only after a great deal of trouble.” 

“ And yet'V^u dare to come to the seat of the 
French administration in Germany ? ” exclaimed 
Muller. “ Oh, my friend, your danger nearly de- 
prives me of the delight I feel in seeing you again, 
and I have to mingl^ my loving salutations with 
warnings and prese||timents ! ” 

“ You are right ; I was rather bold in entering 
the cobweb of the French spiders,” said Gentz. 
“ Still, it is not so dangerous as you believe, and 
you may be perfectly at ease so far as I am con- 
cernedf*.’ 1 am here with a charming lady friend, 
the Princess Bagration. I figured on her pass- 
port as her private secretary, and have a regular 
Russian one of my own, purporting to be issued 
to M. de Gentzowitch. Besides, no one suspects 
me here ; we have just arrived, and will leave 
Berlin to-morrow before daybreak to return to 


Dresden. We are now at peace with France, and 
the authorities here will hardly dare to lay hands 
on a subject of the Emperor of Russia, the friend 
and admirer of the Emperor of the French. You 
see, therefore, you need not be afraid about me, 
and I may safely chat with you for an hour here 
in your study.” 

“ Then, my dear friend, let me welcome you,” 
exclaimed Muller ; “ let us enjoy this hour, and 
renew the pledge of friendship.” Muller wel- 
comed Gentz with great cordiality, but the latter 
did not share the ardor of his friend.” 

“You have remained faithful to our reminis- 
cences ? ” Gentz asked, as Muller led him to the 
sofa, and sat by his side. “You have not for- 
gotten the past, and your heart still retains its 
old friendship ? ” While uttering these words, 
he fixed his dark eyes on the face of Johannes 
von Muller, who seemed not to be able to bear 
his steadfast gaze, and became embarrassed. 

“ Oh, my friend ! ” he exclaimed, “ how can 
you ask whether I remember other days ? My 
heart frequently feels exalted at the idea of friend- 
ship, which so few can appreciate at its true value. 
What attachment was that of Jonathan, himself 
a victorious warrior, for Jesse’s noble son ! How 
great Jonathan was, who knew that the throne of 
Israel would pass from his house to David ! I 
was always affected by David’s exclamation at 
Jonathan’s death. I thought of it just now. And 
Scipio had a disinterested friendship for Lmlius, 
although he was aware that envious men desired 
to rob him of the^lory of having conquered Car- 
thage, and ascribed every thing to the skilful 
plans of Laelius. Just as if, when I narrate the 
heroic deeds of our ancestors, som^F one i^hould 
say, ‘ The best passages were written by his ^ 
friend ! ’ What Scipio felt was once ilhfstrated, 
at a private dinner, by Ferdinand of Brunswick, 
the hero of Crefeld and Minden. He also had a 
friend, and to him were attributed the successes 
of the prince. Ferdinand himself smilingly said 
to me, ‘ Between real friends it is a matter of in- 
difference to whom the credit is given.’ Oh, the 
spirits of David, Jonathan, and Scipio, must have 
rejoiced at these words as heartily as I did. So, 
my dear Gentz, you ask me whether I have for- 
gotten our friendship ? ” 

“Words, words!” exclaimed Gentz, indignant- 
ly. “Instead of deeds, you have nothing but 
words. I will speak to you plainly, and with the 
sincerity of a true German. That is what I have 
come for.” 

“ Like a true German ? ” repeated Muller. “ Are 
there still any true Germans ? Are they not by 
this time extinct, leaving behind only slaves and 


144 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


> 


renegades ? This is not the age for true Ger- 
mans, and if any really exist, they ought to hide 
themselves and be silent.” 

“ And you can say that — you who once called so 
enthusiastically for deeds ? ” exclaimed Gentz, in- 
dignantly. “ Listen to me, Johannes von Muller ! 
I tell you once more, it is for your sake that I 
have come. I wanted to appear before you either 
as your guilty conscience or as your friend, as 
your judge or as your ally. I refused to believe in 
all that was told me about you. I would trust 
only my own ears, my own eyes. Johannes von 
Muller, I have come to ask you : Do you still 
remember the oath we took in so solemn a man- 
ner at Frankfort ? ” 

“ I do,” said Johannes von Muller, timidly. 
“ Carried away by the enthusiasm of our hopes, 
we covenanted for the welfare of Germany, and 
especially for her deliverance from foreign tyr- 
anny.” 

“We swore to unite in active love for Ger- 
many, and in active hatred against France,” ex- 
claimed Gentz, solemnly. “ I have fulfilled my 
oath ; I have toiled incessantly for the deliver- 
ance of Germany. The persecutions I have suf- 
fered at the hands of the French, and Napoleon’s 
wrath, speak for me ! I have well improved my 
time. But what have you done ? Where are the 
friends enlisted for our covenant ? Where are 
the allies gathered around you to assist against 
France ? The time for action is coming, and we 
must be ready to fight the battle and expel the 
tyrant. Johannes von Muller, where are the 
troops you have enlisted — the men you have 
gained oyer to our cause ? ” 

“ I have enlisted no troops — prepared no bat- 
tles, and concentrated no corps,” said Muller, 
sighing. “ On the battle-field of Jena lie buried 
not only our soldiers, but our hopes. The disas- 
ter is boundless; name, rights, existence — all 
gone ! A new order of things is at hand. The great 
period of many monarchies, since the downfall of 
the Roman empire, is closed. No other path to 
prosperity and glory remains to us than that of 
the arts of peace ; we cannot succeed by war.” 

“ It is true, then, exclaimed Gentz, mournfully, 
“ that you are a traitor and a renegade, and have 
not been slandered! You have not only lost 
your faith, but the consciousness of your perfidy 1 
Oh, I refused to believe it ; I thought it was im- 
possible. I did have confidence in you. It was 
well known to me that you had long since lost 
your courage and inclination to struggle for our 
cause. I was also aware that, even before the 
commencement of the war between Prussia and 
France, your irresolution and timidity had in- 


creased. I was not greatly surprised, therefore, 
that you remained at Berlin when all faithful men 
left the capital, or, as some assert, you returned 
hither agreeably to an invitation from the 
French. After this, I was no longer astonished 
at seeing you repudiate your principles, your 
glory, your friends, the cause of Germany, every 
thing great and good that you had advocated 
for years, and truckle in the most cowardly 
manner to the conqueror, carry on disgraceful 
secret negotiations with him, and issue equivocal 
declarations and confessions ; but that you should 
betray all that ought to be dear to you — that you 
should publicly renounce your principles — of such 
treachery I never deemed you capable ! ” 

“ And where did I commit any such treachery ? ” 
asked Muller, reproachfully ; “ where did I se- 
cretly or publicly renounce all that had hitherto 
been dear to me ? Tell me, accuse me 1 I will jus- 
tify myself! This will show you how ardently I 
love you, for I will accept you as a judge of my 
actions, and allow you to acquit me or to find me 
guilty.” 

“ Be it so ! ” exclaimed Gentz. “ I do not 
stand before you as an individual ; but as the 
voice of Germany — of posterity, that will judge 
and condemn you if you are unable to justify your- 
self. Listen to the charges, and reply to them ! 
Why did you remain in Berlin when the court 
fled ; when all those who were loyal to the king 
and his cause left the capital, because they re- 
fused to bow their heads to the French yoke ? ” 

“ I remained because I did not see any reason 
for fleeing. I am no prominent politician ; poli- 
tics, on the contrary, are only a matter of second- 
ary importance to me. My principal sphere is 
science, and every thing connected with it. Now 
I was better able to serve it here than elsewhere. 
I had my books here, and a large number was on 
the w'ay to me ; accordingly, I had to wait for 
them; besides I had commenced studying the 
royal archives of Berlin to obtain material for 
my history of Frederick II. These are the rea- 
sons why I remained, and I *ponfess to you that 
I had no cause to repent of it. No one injured 
me, or asked any thing dishonorable of me ; no 
one insisted on my doing any thing incompat- 
ible with my duty and loyalty ;*on the contrary, 
all treated me politely. They seemed to regard me 
as one of the ancients, living only in and for pos- 
terity. Never before was the dignity of historical 
science honored in a more delicate manner than 
by the treatment I received at the hands of the 
French. Thus, amid the crash of falling thrones, 
I have quietly continued at my history of Switzer- 
land, written articles for several reviews, and 


THE CALL. 


145 


made extracts from many of the ancient classics, 
from the whole Muratorian Tliesaurm, and from 
other printed and manuscript volumes. This, 
my friend, is a brief sketch of the quiet and re- 
tired life I have led since the disastrous day of 
Jena.” 

“ You forgot to mention several essential points 
in your sketch,” said Gentz, sternly. “You did 
not* allude to your friendly intercourse with Na- 
poleon’s prsetorians ; you forgot even to refer to 
the remarkable visit you paid to the Emperor of 
the French. How could you, who so recently in 
public addresses had called upon every one to 
rise against the usurper — how could you dare to 
enter the lion’s lair without fearing lest he strike 
you dead by a single blow ? Napoleon Bonaparte 
might invite me twenty times in the most flatter- 
ing manner, I should still take care to refuse, for 
I feel convinced that I should never return. The 
bullets that struck Palm’s breast would be re- 
moulded for me. How did it come that you did 
not feel any such apprehensions? How could 
you hope that the French would forgive your 
former Prussian patriotism, unless you had made 
concessions to them — unless you had proved re- 
creant to the cause to which you had hitherto 
adhered ? ” 

“ I made no concessions. They were unneces- 
sary ; no one asked me to make them,” said 
Johannes von Muller, gently. “I remained in 
Berlin, because I was unable to flee with my w^hole 
library, and because I was no more bribed by 
France than by England, or any other power.” 

“ Ah, I understand you ; you will now turn the 
table, and accuse me instead of justifying your- 
self. It is a very common thing nowadays to 
tell marvellous stories about the large sums with 
which England has bribed me to speak and write 
against the usurper, who tramples upon our free- 
dom and nationality. You can scarcely open a 
newspaper without finding in it, side by side with 
eulogies of the great German historian, and of 
thq gratifying manner in which ‘Napoleon, the 
hero, whose eagle-eye discerns every thing, knew 
how to appreciate his«, merits,’ systematic at- 
tacks against me, and allusions to the rumor that 
I had been bribed by England.” 

“ I did not intend accusing you,” said Miillcr. 
“I am only justifying myself; first, as to my re- 
maining here, and, secondly, as to the visit I paid 
to the Emperor Napoleon. He sent for me, and, 
rest assured, I did nothing whatever to bring about 
this invitation. Ought I tp have refused ? He did 
not say a word about the king, the queen, myself, 
my wishes or plans. Dear friend, will you per- 
mit me to relate to you the particulars of my in- 
10 


terview with Napoleon ? Will you listen to me 
quietly, so as to judge for yourself whether that 
visit, which has been censured so severely, was 
really so great a crime, so terrible a perfidy against 
Germany, as my enemies have seen fit to pre- 
tend ? ” 

“ Speak ! I told you already that I come to ac- 
cuse you in the name of Germany and of pos- 
terity, and to listen to your justification.” 

♦ 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

THE CALL. 

Johannes von Muller shook his head, and as 
he spoke his voice grew louder, and his face 
kindled with enthusiasm. “ M. Alexander von Hum- 
boldt had made me acquainted with the French 
minister of state, M. Maret, who frequently in- 
vited me, with Humboldt and some other savants, 
to dine with him, and seemed to like my conver- 
sation. One morning he called to inform me 
that the Emperor Napoleon desired to receive me 
at seven o’clock in the evening. At the hour ap- 
pointed I rode to Maret, and was introduced to 
Napoleon, who was seated by himself on a sofa ; 
several persons, unknown to me, stood in a re- 
mote corner of the room. The emperor com- 
menced by referring to the history of Switzer- 
land, and told me I ought to finish it, because 
the more recent period of the history of that 
country was by no means devoid of interest. 
From Swiss history we passed to the history and 
constitution of ancient Greece, to the -theory of 
constitutions, to the striking difference of those 
of the Asiatic nations, and the causes of this 
difference, to be found in the climate and in 
polygamy, to the widely different characters of 
the Arabs (whom the emperor extolled very 
highly), and the Tartars, which led usio the inva- 
sions always threatening civilization from that 
side, and the necessity of raising a bulwark 
against them. We then spoke of the real value 
of European' culture, and stated that there never 
had been greater freedom, security of property, 
humanity, and better times in general, than since 
the fifteenth century; further, that there was a 
mysterious concatenation in all terrestrial events, 
that every thing was directed by the inscrutable 
dispensations of an invisible hand, and that the 
emperor himself had become great by the very ac- 
tions of his enemies. We referred to the great 
confederation of nations, an idea -that had already 
been entertained by Henry IV. ; to the sources 


146 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


and necessity of religion ; we said that man was, 
perhaps, not able to bear the whole dazzling 
truth, and required to be kept in bounds; but 
that, nevertheless, it was possible to bring about 
a happy order of things if the numerous wars 
ceased that had been produced by constitutions 
too intricate, such as that of Germany, and by 
the intolerable burdens imposed on nations by 
large standing armies. A great many other things 
were said, and, in fact, almost all countries and 
nations were alluded to. The emperor spoke at 
first in his ordinary tone, but in a lower voice 
as the conversation became more interesting, so 
that I had to bend down, and no one else could 
have understood what he said. I myself shall 
never repeat several statements he made on this 
occasion. I contradicted him repeatedly, and he 
entered into a discussion with me. 

“ If I am to speak impartially, I must say that 
Napoleon’s knowledge, the correctness of his ob- 
servations, his understanding, the grandeur of his 
views, filled me with admiration, while the amia- 
ble manner in which he spoke to me could not 
but enlist my affection. A few marshals and the 
Prince de Benevento in the mean time entered the 
room, but he did not interrupt himself. After I 
had conversed with him about an hour and a half, 
he ordered the concert to commence, and I do 
not know whether it was a mere accident or 
whether he did so to oblige me, but he asked the 
musicians to play Swiss airs, and among them the 
Ranz des Vaches. He then bowed to me kindly, 
and left the room. I must confess I was fas- 
cinated. Since my conference with Frederick 
II., twenty-four years ago, I never had a more 
interesting interview, at least none with a prince ; 
if my memory does not deceive me, the emperor’s 
conversation was even more solid and comprehen- 
sive than that of Frederick, who did not conceal 
his admiration for the views of Yoltaire. For the 
rest, Napoleon’s tone is firm and vigorous, but 
there is as winning an expression about his mouth 
as there was about that of Frederick. It was one 
of the most remarkable days of my life. Napo- 
leon conquered me, too, by his genius and unaf- 
fected kindness. This, my friend,” said Muller, 
“ is a faithful aecount of what occurred during my 
visit to him, and how I was charmed by his 
genius.” 

“ Woe to you that he succeeded ! ” exclaimed 
Gentz — “ that he confused your understanding 
and infatuated your judgment. Are you, then, 
really in earnest about this admiration and ful- 
some praise of a man whom you abhorred for- 
merly — to whom at Frankfort you vowed everlast- 
'ing hatred — whom, in your wrath, you called the 


scourge that was torturing us, that we might be 
aroused from our stupor ? Do you now seriously 
praise him as the great genius to whom we ought 
to do homage and bow as humble worshippers ? ” 

“ Yes, I say that Providence has intrusted to 
him the most sublime mission,” exclaimed Muller. 
“I feel convinced that God has given him the 
empire of the world. Never before has this been 
more apparent than in the late war, in whieh he 
obtained victories with which only those of Arbela 
and Zama can be compared. Inasmuch as the 
old and rusty order of things was doomed to dis- 
appear, it was fortunate that these victories were 
vouchsafed to Napoleon and to a nation that is 
distinguished for its culture, and appreciates the 
toils of learned men far more readily than other 
nations. Just as little as Cicero, Livy, and Hor- 
ace, concealed from the great Ca3sar, or from 
Augustus, that they had formerly been opposed 
to him, have I concealed that I had belonged to a 
different party, or rather entertained different views, 
which, the issues being decided, I willingly give up, 
ready, if not to cooperate in, at least to become 
the impartial historian of the reorganization of 
the world. Now, it is an inexpressibly edifying 
occupation to raise our eyes from the ruins of 
Europe to the whole connection of history — to 
seek for the causes of events, and boldly to re- 
move a little the veil that covers the probable 
future. These ideas seem to me so grand and 
gratifying that they fill my soul, absorbing aU 
my reflections. Thus I try to prepare as well 
as I can for what is to come. History teaehes me 
that, when the time for a great change ah’ives, re- 
sistance against it is utterly useless. True wis- 
dom consists in a correct perception of the signs 
of the times, and true virtue is not transformed 
into vice when this or that phase passes away. 
The ruler of the world will certainly never over- 
look him who demonstrates his manhood, and 
whose skill and courage entitle him to human 
respect.” 

“Yes,” exclaimed Gentz, laughing scornfully, 
“ you are indeed a true man ! When the country 
was overwhelmed with calamities — when your 
friends, whom your clarion-notes once led to the 
charge — when the royal couple that had over- 
whelmed you with manifestations of kindness and 
esteem, and all the loyal and faithful fled, you 
acted like a true man ! You only thought of 
yourself and your personal interests, and forgot 
what you once swore to me, and in reference to 
which I stand before you at this hour. Johannes 
von Muller, I renounce you forevermore ! Ger- 
many will accept no further services at your hands, 
even though you should desire to espouse her 


THE CALL. 


147 


cause again, for no one reposes confidence in the 
faithless. Posterity will honor Johannes von 
Muller, the historian ; but they will despise Johan- 
nes von Muller, the man. I know you now 
thoroughly. Your whole character is a strange 
error nature committed in uniting intellect of 
extraordinary strength with one of the feeblest 
souls. The many sublime thoughts, the ingenious 
and often profound combinations which for many 
years have characterized your pen, were apparently 
intended only for others ; you yourself derive no 
benefit from them. You are, and will ever be, 
the playttiing of every accidental and momentary 
impression. Always ready to acknowledge and 
embrace whatever came near you, you were never 
able to feel either enduring hatred or attach- 
ment. Your life is a mere capitulation. If the 
Evil One himself should appear on earth in visible 
form, I could show him the way by which he 
could league with you within twenty-four hours. 
The true source of your inconsistency is tbe fact 
that, separated from all good and true men, and 
surrounded by knaves and fools, you see and 
hear nothing but what is ignoble and false. If 
you could have made up your mind to leave Ber- 
lin, you would probably have been saved. Your 
real guilt consists in your staying here ; the re- 
mainder of your faults were only consequences of 
it. Whether this judgment is more lenient or rig- 
orous, more mortifying or honorable, than that 
which you may expect at the hands of the pubhc, 
I will not decide. As for myself, it is conclusive.” 

“ But it is not for me,” exclaimed Muller, with 
grave dignity. “I forgive you the insults you 
have thrown into my face ; and, instead of turn- 
ing away from you in silence, and in the con- 
sciousness of right, I will address you a last word 
of justification ; for you know full well that I 
have loved you, and my heart I’enounces reluc- 
tantly its dream of friendship. You have pre- 
ferred serious charges against me ; you have 
threatened me .wdth the judgment of posterity ; 
but posterity will have better ideas of justice 
than you, whose eyes are blinded by partisan 
feelings and political hatred. It is true, I have 
said on every page of my works that men ought 
not to shrink from sacrificing their lives for their 
country, for truth, and justice ; but I am uncon- 
scious of having done any thing to the contrary, 
nor have I ever been exposed to such an alterna- 
tive. Never have I changed my principles. What 
I desired when I entered into the covenant wdth 
you at Prankfort, was to bring about a firm alli- 
ance between Austria and Prussia, and thereby 
to transform Germany into a strong power, inter- 
posing the two great empires. For that purpose 


I have striven, acted, spoken, and written. My 
utterances were not listened to, and the year 1805 
destroyed all my hopes. The times changed, but 
my principles did not, based as they are on the 
great truth of all possible liberty, dignity, and 
happiness for the nations, according to their 
different circumstances and peculiarities. Never, 
however, did I permit personal considerations to 
influence me ; I wrote for Prussia in the good 
cause of the princes’ league, and against Prussia 
in the bad one of the separate peace. It is true, 
I was not quiet with regard to the blunders com- 
mitted : I did not encourage the mad expectations 
of the war-party, and was opposed to misleading 
the public by false rumors and inflammatory ap- 
peals. I desired the truth, and proclaimed it ; 
but the so-called German patriots think I ought 
to have kept silence. When the Jews were 
warned with tearful eyes to submit to the con- 
queror, into whose hands Providence *had deliv- 
ered Asia for a certain time, they deemed it pa- 
triotic to persecute the prophet, but Jerusalem 
was burned. Why did he not keep silence ? 
Because God commanded him to speak. That is 
the servility, the faithlessness, and treachery with 
which I am now reproached. Hypocrites ! Every 
crime has its motive. Did I intend to increase 
my glory ? Certainly not. It was self-interest, 
then ? Yes ! — to give up the beautiful city of 
Berlin, the title of councillor of war, and a salary 
of three thousand dollars, doubtless to go to 
Paris and receive a large pension from the French 
government ! No ! but to accept a professorship 
of two thousand florins in the little town of 
Tubingen, and to have 'the honor to work hard 
to pay my debts ! That is the brilliant position 
which is asserted to have induced me to sacrifice 
my nation, my liberty, and my honor. I am tired 
of sacrificing myself, of toiling incessantly, and 
of being exposed to danger, in an ungrateful age 
and for a degenerate nation, cowardly in deed, 
slanderous in word, and senseless in hope. A 
supreme intelligence is ruling over us ; one era is 
past ; another is approaching, and of what char- 
acter it will be, depends on our own reforma- 
tion ! It was Providence that sent Napoleon as the 
instrument of the transition. I acquiesce in the 
dispensation of God, who, during the latter cen- 
turies, has so ordered events as to prevent 'man- 
kind from receding from the degree of civilization 
they had attained. The people must take heart, 
concentrate their moral and mental strength, and 
devote themselves to the culture of the peaceful 
and the good. That is my last confession. If you 
understand me, and it satisfies you, give me your 
hand, and we are reconciled ; if you wish to con- 


148 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


tinuc to misrepresent me and condemn my course, 
farewell ! for, in that case, our paths diverge for- 
ever.” 

“ Let us, then, pursue different paths ! ” ex- 
claimed Gentz, contemptuously, taking his hat 
and preparing to leave. “ I go, but not without 
painful emotion. Let your heart, in memory of 
the past, tell you whether I have judged correct- 
ly. I feel what it is to lose you ! As a friend 
of patriotism, I pass an inexorable sentence on 
you ; as a man, as your former friend, I feel noth- 
ing but compassion — to hate you is beyond my 
power. If God fulfil our wishes, and crown my 
efforts and those of my companions, then there 
will be but one punishment for you, and it will be 
terrible. Law and order will return, the robber 
and the usurper be humbled, and Germany, flour- 
ishing under the rule of wise sovereigns, will 
again be free ; but you will have to stand aloof, 
and never be permitted to join in the sacred 
hymns of our patriots ! Farewell ! ” He turned 
and hastily left the room. 

Johannes von Muller gazed after him mourn- 
fully. “ I ha/e lost another friend ! Ah, I wish 
I could escape into the grave from all this tur- 
moil — these painful misunderstandings and broken 
friendships.” Standing silent, he placed his hand 
over his tearful eyes. “No,” he said; “I will 
not despair ! The hand of Providence is every- 
where ; it will support and protect me. I have 
lost a friend ; very well, I will return to my im- 
mortal friends — to the ancients ! They never 
cease to instruct and strengthen me by their ex- 
alted sentiments.” He stepped to his desk, and, 
sitting down, seized one of the large open vol- 
umes. “ Come and console me, Juvenal,” he ex- 
claimed, enthusiastically. “ You are to me rather 
a new friend, whom I have learned but lately to 
understand thoroughly. 0 Juvenal ! let the fire 
burning in your works warm my heart, and in- 
vigorate me by your words, which are among the 
priceless treasures of mankind ! ” He bent over 
the book and commenced reading. His face, 
which, at first, had been melancholy, soon as- 
sumed a serene and almost good-humored ex- 
pression, and, forgetful of the present, he be- 
came entirely absorbed in reading the Eoman 
author. 

All was silent in his room. The busts of Napo- 
leon and Frederick looked down on the illumina- 
ted but deserted street, as if they were guarding 
the great historian from any evil thoughts or 
cowardly despondency that perchance might dis- 
turb his thoughts. Suddenly a horseman galloped 
up, and a carriage approached the house. Two 
gentlemen alighted and entered. Johannes von 


Muller saw and heard nothing. He read and 
copied such passages from old Juvenal as pleased 
him best. 

Some one rapped violently at the door, and a 
deep voice called out in French, “ May I enter ? ” 
“General Clarke!” exclaimed Johannes von 
Muller, almost in dismay, starting up and rushing 
toward the door ; but, before he reached it, the 
French governor of Berlin, General Clarke, ap 
peared, followed by a young orderly, whose dusty 
uniform told that he had just left the highway and 
the saddle. 

“ M. Johannes von Muller,” exclaimed Clarke, 
cordially nodding, and offering his hand to the 
savant, “See what I bring you I ” 

“ Well,” asked Muller, in surprise, “what does 
your excellency bring ? ”, 

“ I bring you a courier whom the minister of 
state, M. Maret, by order of the emperor has sent 
you, and who has been hunting for you all over 
Germany. At Frankfort he was informed you 
were already at Tubingen, and on arriving there 
he learned that you had not yet left Berlin, al- 
though you had been expected for six months.” 

“ I could not go,” said Midler ; “ I had not yet 
received my dismissal ; it arrived only to-day.” 

“ It is well it came to-day,” exclaimed Clarke ; 
“ it has arrived just in time. My friend,” he added, 
turning to the courier, “ this is M. von Muller ; de- 
liver the letter into his hands ” 

The courier produced a large letter to which an 
official seal was attached. “When can you let 
me have the reply ? ” he asked. “ I have been in- 
structed to return to Paris without delay.” 

“ The reply ? ” said Muller. “ But I do not 
yet know the question ? ” 

“ My learned friend,” exclaimed Clarke, laugk 
ing, “this game of questions and answers with 
Napoleon resembles a thunderstorm ; almost as 
soon as the flash is seen, the thunder is heard. 
There must be no hesitation — ^no delay. It is the 
emperor that asks. Permit the courier, in the 
mean time, to retire into the anteroom. On cross- 
ing it, I noticed a sofa. You will permit him to 
take a little rest until your reply is ready. I have 
also commissioned your servant to fetch a glass 
of wine and some food. You must take into con- 
sideration that the poor fellow has been on horse- 
back, day and night, and has but just left the 
saddle.” 

“ Go, sir,” exclaimed Muller, in an impressive 
voice, “ take a little rest and some food. I am 
sorry that I have caused you so much trouble.” 

“ And now, sir,” said Clarke, when the courier 
had left the room, “ read the letter from Minister 
Maret.” 


FINANCIAL CALAMITIES. 


149 


Johannes von Muller broke the seal and opened 
the paper with a trembling hand. While he was 
reading, a blush suffused his face, and an exclama- 
tion of joyful surprise burst from his lips. “ This 
letter contains extraordinary news ! I am to go to 
Paris ! I am to receive an important office that I 
have never solicited ! ” 

“ Yes, sir, you are to go to Paris, and, as speed- 
ily as possible,” said Clarke, smiling. “ I also 
received a letter from the minister by this courier, 
and his excellency requests me to have you set out 
without delay. It is the emperor’s order, sir, and 
must be complied with. His majesty himself has 
appointed you to the exalted position which you 
are to fill at the court of his brother, the King of 
Westphalia. Jerome’s kingdom sprang from the 
soil of Germany in a night ; hence it is right that 
you should be his minister of public instruction. 
That is the office to be intrusted to you, sir. The 
emperor has so ordered it. He promised his 
brother a minister of the German nation.” 

“ I, a poor bookworm, who have had more inter- 
course with the dead than the living — I am to be- 
come a minister ! That will not do. I lack the 
necessary ability and experience.” 

“ Nonsense, sir ! ” exclaimed Clarke ; “ when 
the emperor bestows an office on a man, he gives 
him the understanding required for it. Hesita- 
tion is injurious, because it only postpones your 
departure. Please notice that you have not been 
asked whether you wish to accept or not, but that 
the emperor orders your presence, and that quick- 
ly. I shall lend you my own travelling-coach, and 
send my secretary with you. You will travel by 
way of Mentz and Strasburg, and in five days you 
you must be at Fontainebleau, where the em- 
peror is awaiting you to give you further instruc- 
tions. Well, when do you intend to set out ? ” 

“ When shall I set out ? I feel as one dream- 
ing, or as if all this were the play of my imagina- 
tion.” 

“ You will have to admit, however, that it is at 
least brilliant. It is worth while, I should think, 
to make a journey to Paris to receive the appoint- 
ment of cabinet-minister. I ask you again, 
When will you set out? Remember, it is the 
emperor that calls you.” 

“ Oh, then he has not forgotten me, the great 
man ! ” exclaimed Muller. “ After so many vic- 
tories, he still remembers that interview in which 
I learned to admire him. I must not be ungrate- 
ful for so gratifying a remembrance. - Only sub- 
lime and salutary ideas spring from the head of 
Jove; hence, I submit in every respect to his 
will, and shall go to him to receive his orders and 
comply with his wishes.” 


“Well said!” exclaimed Clarke. “You will 
set out to-morrow morning. I shall prepare 
every thing that is necessary. But, remember, 
the courier is waiting for your reply. Quick, my 
friend ! ” write an answer to the minister. But 
few words are required. Just say to him : ‘ Your 
excellency, I come I ’ That will be sufficient.” 

Johannes von Muller, almost intoxicated with 
delight, hastened to his desk, and wrote a few 
lines. “ I have written what you told me,” he 
said, smiling, and handing the paper to the gen- 
eral. “ I have written : ‘ Your excellency, I 
come ! ’ ” 

“ Now fold it up and direct it,” said Clarke. 

Muller did so, and gave the sealed letter to 
Clarke : “ Well, general, here is the letter — I de- 
liver it into your hands, and with it my future.” 

“ Mr. Minister, permit me to congratulate you,” 
said Clarke, smiling, and, going to the door, he 
gave the letter to the courier. 

“Minister!” said Johannes von Muller, with a 
joyful air, “I am to be a minister!” But sud- 
denly his face became gloomy. “ Alas ! ” he mur- 
mured, “ now my country will call me a traitor in- 
deed, and Gentz will seem to be right in denoun- 
cing me as an apostate, and accusing me of having 
tendered my resignation to obtain a more lucrative 
office. Well, no matter,” he exclaimed, after a 
pause, “let them denounce and slander me! My 
conscience acquits me, and I may be permitted, 
after all, to be useful to Germany in my new posi- 
tion. May God in His mercy guide me ! ” 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

FINANCIAL CALAMITIES. 

“ Heaven be praised that you are again restored 
to us ! ” exclaimed the queen, smiling gratefully, 
and offering her hand to Minister von Stein. “ Oh, 
believe me, such a sunbeam is welcome to us in 
these dreary days of Memel.” 

“ It is true,” said Stein, sighing. “ Your ma- 
jesty has passed disastrous days, and I am glad 
that I am able again to assist my adored queen in 
her troubles.” 

She shook her head mournfully. “I do not 
believe in the possibility of any alleviation or 
change. We have suffered great misfortunes, and 
greater may befall us. Since the days of J ena and 
Auerstadt our sorrows have increased. We are 
constantly experiencing some new humiliation; 
even the treaty of Tilsit is not the climax of our 


150 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


calamities. They come as an avalanche, and some- 
times I wish to be buried beneath them.” 

“ Then the last ray of hope for Prussia would 
disappear,” said Stein. “ If your majesty desert us, 
we are irretrievably lost, for your life, your cour- 
age, and your spirit, are the support of your hus- 
band. Without Louisa, Prussia and her king 
would perish.” 

“ Oh, it is true he loves me,” cheerfully ex- 
claimed the queen. “ The king treats me more 
affectionately than ever. And that is great happi- 
ness after a wedded life of fourteen years ! I will 
be grateful to him as long as I live, and to Prussia 
for loving me. But, alas ! I have no other thanks 
for them than my devotion and my prayers ! ” 

“ You have still your courage and a strong hope 
in the future of your country. You must animate 
the desponding and strengthen the weak. Let 
that be your majesty’s great and holy duty.” 

“ You are right, I must not despair,” responded 
the queen, “ and I thank you for having admon- 
ished me. Oh, it is sometimes very difficult to 
bear such disasters, and I feel that my health is 
giving way more and more. And tell me where am 
I to look for consolation? The storm is upon 
us, and where shall we find a refuge ? How shall 
we escape the thunderbolt ? ” 

“ In our hopes for a more glorious future,” said 
Stein, energetically. 

“Future!” exclaimed Louisa. “There is no 
future without independence, and where is that to 
be found to-day ? All are slaves and bow in the 
most abject humility to a master who, in his turn, 
is but the slave of his own boundless ambition and 
arrogance, and, alas ! there is no man living who 
would dare to set bounds to them 1 Do you know 
how disdainfully our envoy, M. von Knobelsdorf, 
was treated ? He was utterly unable to prefer his 
remonstrances and prayers that Prussia might be 
protected from further extortion, and that the 
French armies might be withdrawn. Napoleon 
received him but once, and then, as it were, acci- 
dentally. The Prince of Baden and Cambac^res 
were in the room, and our ambassador was no 
more noticed than a crumb of bread. The em- 
peror’s attendants treated him in the same manner, 
and Minister Champagny remarked to Knobels- 
dorf that they would see how Prussia behaved. 
He hoped we would comply as much as possible 
with the emperor’s wishes, for such a course would 
alone be likely to give us relief, and that we ought 
to blame no one but ourselves. Are you aware 
of this, and are you still hopeful and speak of a 
happy future ? ” 

“Yes, I am aware of all this, and it is precisely 
for this reason I speak as I do,” said Stein. “We 


must work to dispel the dangers to which your 
majesty referred ; we must erect lightning-rods to 
attract the dangerous fire. If your majesty had a 
less vigorous soul, I should conceal from you the 
calamities still threatening Prussia, notwithstand- 
ing the treaty of Tilsit ; but Queen Louisa is the 
genius of Prussia, and I apply to her for assist- 
ance I ” 

“ Oh 1 ” exclaimed the queen, anxiously, “ bad 
tidings again, I suppose ? ” 

“Yes,” said Stein, sadly — “bad tidings! We 
have received the last propositions or rather de- 
crees of Napoleon. He imposes on Prussia con- 
tributions amounting to one hundred and fifty 
millions, one-third to be paid immediately in cash ; 
bills will be accepted for fifty millions, and estates 
are to be ceded to France for the last fifty millions. 
The five fortresses of Graudenz, Kolberg, Stettin, 
Kiistrin, and Glogau are demanded as security for 
the payment. Forty thousand French soldiers are 
to garrison the fortresses, ten thousand of whom 
will be cavalry, uniformed, armed, and fed by 
Prussia, which is to furnish twelve millions for 
this purpose. The estates of the king in the dis- 
tricts of Magdeburg and Brandenburg, between 
the Elbe and the Oder, and in Pomerania, are to 
be ceded and disposed of in what manner the em- 
peror may deem prudent. As the forty thousand 
men will be unable to find sufficient room in the 
five fortresses, certain districts of Prussia wiU 
have to be assigned them.” 

“ And what remains then to the king ? ” ex- 
claimed Louisa, with flaming eyes. “What re- 
mains to us ? ” 

“ This must not be,” said Stein. “ We must 
leave nothing undone — we must strain every nerve 
to prevent it. The disasters of Prussia compel ua 
to shrink from nothing to avert this last and terri- 
ble blow, or the country will be hopelessly ruined. 
Oh, I cannot describe to you the distress, the 
misery, the disgrace I witnessed in the cities 
through which I passed on my journey. Your 
majesty knows that I was at Berlin ; I saw that 
Daru and Clarke behaved in the most reckless 
and scornful manner, refusing with sneers to listen 
to any remonstrances. They seemed to be bent 
on oppressing and impoverishing the country, and 
drinking the last drop of its heart’s blood ! I be- 
held everywhere the same heart-rending spectacle 
that I witnessed at the capital. Every city and 
fortress has its systematic tormentor in some gov- 
ernor or commander, distinguished for arrogance 
and cruelty. The distress is unutterable, and yet 
the people hope for speedy deliverance. The eyes 
of all are turning with tears, it is true, but with 
love and hope, to Memel, the heart of the Prussian 


FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES. 


151 


monarchy. AU the hopes of your subjects are 
centred in the king and the queen ; to you they 
look for alleviation.” 

“ Alas ! ” exclaimed the queen, bursting into 
tears, “ is there, then, any way by which we can 
help them ? Oh, name it ! What can the king — 
what can I do to procure relief for Prussia ? ” 

“The greatest burden at this moment is the 
presence of the French troops, and the oppres- 
sive conduct of the public officials, who are openly 
disregarding all the laws and institutions of the 
country, and trampling under foot the most solemn 
rights. We must make every possible effort to 
rid Prussia of these men. To accomplish this, 
we must, in the first place, try to find means 
to pay the first third of the contribution; and 
next, to induce Napoleon to grant us better terms 
for the payment of the remainder. We must en- 
deavor to induce him to consent to a gradual 
liquidation (whicl^ would be more in accordance 
with our ability), and without insisting on retain- 
ing the fortresses as security, and oppressing us 
with an army of forty thousand men. In this 
way our exhausted treasury would not be required 
to pay the additional twelve millions for equipping 
the French soldiers, and the country would be 
preserved from the tyranny of a hostile occupa- 
tion.” 

“ But you may depend on it, there is no way to 
soften that heart of Napoleon,” said the queen, 
sighing. “ He is certainly a victorious warrior, 
but he is not great in the highest sense — he is not 
good, for he knows neither compassion nor love. 
He has marked out his path in lines of blood, and 
he pursues it over the slain of the battle-field and 
the ruins of once prosperous and happy nations. 
Napoleon has no pity, and our complaints would 
but gratify his pride.” 

“ And yet we must try to dispose him to com- 
ply with our wishes,” said Stein. “ The king has 
resolved upon writing to-day to the Emperor 
Alexander, and imploring him to instruct Count 
Tolstoy, his ambassador in Paris, to remonstrate 
with Napoleon, and convince him of the cruelty 
and injustice of his demands. Oh, the king is 
ready, with an energy deserving the highest admi- 
ration, to do every thing to lessen the burdens 
under which his subjects are groaning. He him- 
self has drawn up a financial plan to procure the 
first twelve millions, which we shall offer to pay 
immediately. He is ready to order reductions in 
the budget of the army, the opera, the ballet, and 
the extraordinary pensions. He himself sets an 
example of self-denial and economy. He will re- 
duce further his household, and retain only the 
most indispensable servants. Notwithstanding 


my protestations, he insists on refusing to accept 
the civil list due him.” 

“ Oh,” exclaimed the queen, “ who can call me 
unhappy when I am the wife of the noblest of 
men ? But I will also take part in these sacri- 
fices, and I hope the king has also refused to ac- 
cept the money paid me by the state treasury.” 

“No, your majesty. That should not be cur- 
tailed; I would never advise it, and the king 
would not consent.” 

“ But I insist,” replied the queen, firmly. “ My 
king and husband must forgive me if I choose for 
once to have a will of my own. If the king is 
ready to suffer privations, then it is my right and 
duty to share them.” 

“But your majesty ought to think of your 
children, who would also suffer. Pray take into 
consideration that the royal family would be re- 
duced to a very small income, and that the most 
rigid economy could not preserve you from em- 
barrassments. A portion of the royal estates is 
to be mortgaged or sold for the purpose of defray- 
ing part of the French contribution ; considering 
the universal distress, it is very probable that the 
income to be derived from the other estates will 
not be paid at all, or very tardily. The king, 
moreover, gave up very considerable resources by 
sending the large gold dinner-set to the mint to 
be converted into coin, which he did not use for 
himself or his household, but paid into the state 
treasury. If your majesty, like the king, refuses 
to accept money from the treasury, pecuniary 
difficulties will arise, which will be the more pain- 
ful to you, as your children will suffer, deprived 
of the comforts to which they have been ac- 
customed.” 

“ That will produce a salutary effect,” said the 
queen, quickly. “ Circumstances educate men, 
and it will certainly be good for my children to be 
familiar with something more than the sunniest 
side of life. If they had grown up in opulence 
they would ever consider it as a matter of course ; 
but that there may be a change, they learn now 
from the gravity of their father, and the tears of 
their mother. It is especially good for the crown 
prince to become acquainted with adversity — 
when, as I hope, happier times come, he will better 
appreciate his prosperity. Let them share our 
adverse fortune! I know how to protect them 
from real want. I have still some means left, and 
the Lord will not forsake us. Do not call this 
stubbornness or presumption. You know we 
have not refrained from every exertion to lessen 
our calamities. I have even gone so far as to beg 
the Duke de Kovigo, who is now governor of East 
Prussia, to intercede with the emperor concerning 


152 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


the contributions, and to have restored to us our 
estates, because they were our only possessions. 
Do you know the reply the duke made ? He told 
me that all solicitations would be in vain, and 
even the intercession of Eussia would be of no 
avail in regard to this matter. He added that 
there remained to us one way of procuring money, 
and he advised us to sell our plate and jewels.” 

“ The impudent villain ! ” exclaimed Stein, in- 
dignantly. “ How could he go so far as to use 
such language toward your majesty ! ” 

“ It is true,” said the queen, gently, “ it pained 
me grievously, and brought tears. Not that my 
heart cares for worldly splendor, but there is some- 
thing inexpressibly offensive in the scorn with 
which those men, and particularly the Duke de 
Rovigo, imitate the example of their master. 
But, after all, that sagacious duke was right, per- 
haps, for useless jewels may be converted into 
money. I admit,” added the queen, with a smile, 
“ that I had never thought of it ; it Avould never 
have occurred to me that we might get money by 
selling our personal property. In fact, I ought to 
be grateful to M. Savary for his advice.” 

“Your majesty,” said Stein, deeply affected,” 
“ you must not think of selling your jewels. Better 
times will come. Even in these days of adversity 
there will be occasions when you must show your- 
self to your people at public festivities and dem- 
onstrations ; they like to see their queen adorned 
in a regal and becoming manner.” 

“ My most becoming ornament will be sim- 
plicity, and the tears of gratitude with which I 
shall receive those who wish to honor me.” 

“ But your jewels are the heirlooms of your 
children, your majesty.” ' 

“The only inheritance of our children which 
we are not allowed to part with is our • honor,” 
said the queen, firmly. “ We would not sell it for 
all the empires of the world. That must remain 
to us. As for the rest, we must learn to do with- 
out it.” 

“ But it will greatly pain the king should your 
majesty sell your jewels. It will be another 
humiliation.” 

“ Oh, I can conceal it from him,” exclaimed the 
queen. “I shall sell those superfluous articles 
secretly. There will be no festivities here, and 
hence it will be unnecessary for me to appear in 
royal attire. Two-thirds of the money realized 
will pay the pensions of the king’s old servants ; 
for I know the unsettled arrears cause my hus- 
band many a pang. When these worthy men, 
who are to be deprived of the salaries which they 
so richly deserve, send in their receipts, then let 
my husband find out whence we have obtained 


the money; then, I hope, he will forgive my 
having taken this step without his permission. 
You must assist me in this matter, and take upon 
yourself the payment of the pensions and salaries ; 
will you promise me to do so ? ” 

Baron von Stein endeavored to reply, but the 
words died on his lips ; he bowed over the hand 
the queen offered him, and tears fell on it as he 
pressed it to his lips. 

“ Oh,” said the queen, “ was I not right in say- 
ing that I should never lack ornaments ? Are 
there any more precious than the sympathizing 
tears of a high-minded man ? ” 

“ Pardon me,” whispered Baron von Stein. “ I 
wish I could transmute them into diamonds, and 
lay them at the feet of my queen.” 

“ And what,” asked Louisa, “ would they be 
worth compared with your noble and faithful 
heart ? We can do without jewelry, but not with- 
out your services.” ^ 

“ Henceforth all my thought and energy shall 
be devoted to Prussia,” said the minister. “ But 
your majesty must be so kind as to assist me. I 
must implore you to unite with me to obtain from 
Napoleon less rigorous terms, and the withdrawal 
of the French troops.” 

“Alas! what can I do ? You see I am ready 
to do any thing to lessen the sorrows of Prussia. 
Tell me, therefore, what I am to do.” 

“I have the honor to inform your majesty. I 
have drawn up a plan which will enable Prussia 
to pay this burdensome debt in the course of 
three years. It is true, we have to consent to 
large reductions, collect the war-debt due from 
Eussia, negotiate loans, impose on the subjects of 
Prussia, besides the ordinary taxes, extraordinary 
contributions, and an income-tax, and issue paper 
money. These onerous expedients will deliver us 
at least from the present pressure by furnishing 
us the means of paying the French contributions. 
It is only necessary to send my plan to Paris — to 
deliver it safely into the hands of Napoleon, and 
induce him to accept it.” 

“ I hope you will not ask me to go to Paris for 
this purpose 1 ” exclaimed the queen, in dismay. 

“ No,” answered Stein, “ I have proposed to 
his majesty to intrust this task to his brother, 
Prince William. The king has approved my 
proposition, and sent for the prince to request him 
to undertake this difficult and dangerous mission.” 

“ He will joyfully consent to do so,” exclaimed 
Louisa. “ He loves his king and his country, and 
w'ill shrink from no sacrifice. Alas, he will have 
to endure many a humiliation, and in vain ; it 
will lead to nothing.” 

“We must send powerful auxiliaries with him.” 


FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES. 


153 


said Stein, quickly. “ And now I shall state the 
request which I desire to make to your majesty. 
You must support the prince, and help him in 
his difficult undertaking. I beseech you, there- 
tore, to give him an autograph letter to Napo- 
leon ; condescend to entreat the emperor to be 
merciful and generous ; depict to him the distress 
of your country, the sufferings of your subjects, 
and the privations of your family, and appeal to 
his magnanimity to desist from his demands, and 
accept our plan of payment. Oh, your majesty, 
in your enthusiasm and patriotic love, you are 
inspired with a power of expression which even 
Napoleon will be unable to resist; and whatever^he 
would refuse to the prayers of the prince he will 
yield to those of Queen Louisa ! ” 

“Never!” she exclaimed. “Never can I sub- 
ject myself to this humiliation! Never can I 
stoop so low as to write to that man ! Oh, you 
do not know how pitilessly he insulted me; 
otherwise you would not dare to ask me. ‘Kemem- 
ber what I have already done, how low I have 
humbled myself, and all for nothing. Can I for- 
get those days of Tilsit, when I seemed to live 
only for the purpose of heightening the con- 
queror’s pride by my woe-begone appearance — 
when I felt as if chained in a triumphal car, and 
endeavored with a mournful smile to conceal 
my shame and misery, in order to meet him po- 
litely whose heartless glances made my soul 
tremble ? How can I write to him whom I im- 
plored at Tilsit, but who carried his cruelty so far 
as to make promises which he afterward re- 
nounced — who designated as acts of gallantry 
the assurances he had given in reply to the tears 
of my motherly heart ? If I could save Prussia, 
and secure the happiness of my husband and 
children, I would willingly suffer death, but this 
renewed humiliation is beyond my strength.” 

The minister, folding his arms, looked with 
deep emotion at the excited queen, as she rapidly 
walked up and down the apartment. Standing in 
front of him, she said in a gentle, imploring voice : 
“lam sure you feel that your request cannot pos- 
sibly be granted.” 

“May I repeat to your majesty,” said Stein, 
solemnly, “the words you uttered just now with 
regard to Prince William ? — ‘ The prince will joy- 
fully consent to undertake the difficult mission. 
He loves his king and his country, and will shrink 
from no sacrifice.’ ” 

The queen burst into tears, and, turning away 
fj’om Stein, again but slowly paced the room, her 
head thrown back, her eyes turned upward with 
a suppliant expression, and her lips quivering. 

“ She is undergoing a terrible struggle,” said 


Stein to himself, “but she will be victorious, for 
her heart is noble, and eternal love is in her and 
with her.” He w’as not mistaken. Gradually she 
grew calmer ; her eyes became more cheerful, and 
her features assumed a serene expression. 

“ Baron von Stein,” she said, “ I will do what 
you ask of me ; I will conquer myself. As you 
believe it prudent, I will write to the Emperor 
NapiJfieon, and entreat him to spare Prussia. I 
desire you to draw up the letter for me, so that it 
may be only necessary to copy it.” 

“I foresaw this, and complied with it in ad- 
vance,” said the minister, taking out his memo- 
randum-book, and presenting a sheet of paper. 
“Here,” he said, “is a draught of the needed 
letter. If your majesty approve it, I venture to 
request you to copy it speedily, for this business 
must not be delayed, and if the prince accepts 
the propositions of the king, it would be advisable 
and necessary for him to set out to-day.” 

The queen hastily glanced over the letter. “ It 
is all right,” she said ; “ I approve all you have 
written. I wish to get through at once with this 
painful matter, and I request you to wait until I 
have copied it. You may take it with you, and 
lay it before the king.” 

She hastened to her desk, and wrote rapidly, 
but at times hesitating, as though her pen refused 
the humiliating words. But at last she finished, 
and having quickly read what she had written, 
she called Minister von Stein to her side. “ Here,” 
she said, sighing, and handing the paper to him, 
“ take it, the sacrifice has been made. Will my 
people,” she added, weeping, “ wall my children 
be hereafter grateful to me for having humbled 
myself for their sake ? Will they ever think how 
painful must have been these sacrifices ? Will 
they remember and thank me for them in happier 
days ? ” 

“ Your majesty,” said Stein, enthusiastically, 
“ never will they forget such devotion to your 
country ; and when our great-grandchildren talk 
of these days of wretchedness, they will say: 
‘ Prussia could be humiliated, but she could never 
perish ; for Louisa was her good genius, praying, 
acting, and suffering for her.’ ” 

“Well,” whispered the queen, sadly, “my slum- 
ber in the grave wull be sweet.” Starting sudden- 
ly, she laid her hand on her heart. “ Oh,” she 
groaned, “ how long before this troubled life of 
mine shall cease! — I will tell you something, 
Baron von Stein. Death is not far from me, and 
I feel that he comes nearer every day. There is 
no future for me on earth. But God’s will be 
done ! I read the other day somewhere. Suf- 
ferings and afflictions are blessings when they are 


154 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


overcome.’ Oh, how true that is ! I myself say, 
in the midst of my afflictions that they are bless- 
ings ! How much nearer .1 am to God ! — how 
clear and true my ideas of the immortality of the 
soul ! Seen through, these tears, the solemn facts 
of the future come to me with resistless power. 
Adversity, if rightly used, does instruct and bless. 
I do not complain therefore that I have been called 
to weep.” A low knocking at the door interrupted 
her, and the footman announced the arrival of 

’ i 

Prince William. 


CHAPTER XXXYI. , 

i 

PRINCE WILLIAM. 

The queen met her husband’s brother with a 
pleasant smile, and offered him her hand. “I 
suppose, my brother, you come to bid me fare- 
well ? ” she asked. 

I come to get from my noble sister the letter 
that I am to deliver to the Emperor Napoleon,” 
said the prince, respectfully kissing the hand of 
his sister-in-law. 

Lousia turned her eyes toward the minister. 
“The king knew, then, that you were to request 
me to write the letter ? ” 

“ Yes, but he forbade me to say that he deemed 
it necessary. It was to depend on your majesty’s 
unbiassed judgment whether it should be written 
or not.” 

“ You see, my sister,” exclaimed the prince, 
“ I had no doubt whatever as to your decision.” 

“ Nor I that you would set out to-day,” said 
Louisa, smiling.* 

“But will your majesty pardon me when I 
confess that I have not come merely for the let- 
ter, and to take leave of you ? ” asked the prince. 
“ I heard from the king that Minister von Stein 
was with your majesty, and as I am going to set 
out to-night, and my time accordingly is very 
limited, I decided to have settled a little business 
affair with the minister.” 

“ It affords me pleasure,” said the queen. 

“ And you, minister,” asked the prince, bow- 
ing to the baron, “ will you grant me a brief au- 
dience to-day ? ” 

“ I shall immediately repair to the anteroom of 
your royal highness, and wait until you return,” 
said Stein, approaching the door. 

“Oh, no! pray, stay here,” exclaimed the 
queen. “ I offer this room to the prince as a saile 
de conferences, and shall retire into my cabinet.” 

The prince followed the queen, who was about 
to withdraw, and conducted her back to the sofa. 


“Pardon, my sister,” he said, “I do not desire 
to confer with the minister about secrets that your 
majesty cannot hear. I only wish to ask a favor 
of his excellency, the minister of finance. You, 
doubtless, need a great deal of money at the pres- 
ent time, while my wife and I are spending much 
less than heretofore, because we are living here 
in very humble style. We have made our calcula- 
tions, and ascertained that we are able to do with 
two-thirds of our income. Accordingly, I request 
you to accede to my resolution that, until times 
are better, I give up one-third, and beg you to pay 
this amount into the state treasury.” 

“Ah, my brother,” replied the queen, “you 
are worthy of being the brother of the best of 
kings, for you vie with him in every virtue. Prus- 
sia cannot be crushed so long as such princes 
stand by her side.” 

“ And so long as she is protected by such a 
queen,” said the prince, kissing the offered hand 
of his sister-in-law. He then turned again to the 
minister. “ Your excellency,” he said, “ I am 
commissioned to reveal the same resolution to 
you in the name of my brother. Prince Henry 
also gives one-third of his income, and requests 
the minister of finance to pay this amount into 
the state treasury. Is this verbal declaration 
sufficient, or will it be necessary for us to repeat 
it in writing ? ” 

“ It will be necessary for your royal highness, 
as well as for Prince Henry, to make a written 
declaration to this effect, and hand it to the min- 
ister of state. It will then be deposited in the 
archives of the royal house, and will one day be a 
splendid monument of your patriotism.” 

“In that case, a declaration in writing being 
required, I request you to be so kind as to accom- 
pany me to my house. We will settle the matter 
at once, and invite Prince Henry to participate 
in the transaction. Can you spare us fifteen 
minutes, and will you accept a seat in my car- 
riage ? ” 

“I am at the service of your royal highness,” 
said Stein, bowing. 

“ Then I beg my sister to dismiss us,” said the 
prince, approaching the queen. “ I have many 
things yet to attend to, so that every minute is 
precious, and, above all, I have to inform my 
wife of my speedy departure. Let me beg you, 
my sister, to be a faithful friend of Marianne in 
my absence ; take my beloved wife under your 
protection, and, when she is afflicted, permit her 
to be near you.” 

“We shall weep together, my brother,” said 
the queen, deeply moved. “ All of us will miss 
you, and it will seem as though life had become 




PRINCE WILLIAM AND QUEEN LOUISA 




PKINCE WILLIAM. 


155 


drearier when you are absent. But, considering 
your generous resolution, it does not behoove 
me to complain of our fate. Joyfully, as you 
have done, we shall submit to it. I entertain the 
firm belief that there are better days for Prussia. 
Go, my brother, and assist in hastening them by 
word and deed. God will protect you, and the 
love of your wife, and of your brothers and sis- 
ters, will accompany you ! Farewell ! ” She 
waved her hand, and turned away to conceal her 
tears. 

The prince withdrew in silence, followed by the 
minister. The queen heard the door close after 
him, and, raising her arms toward heaven, ex- 
claimed in a fervent tone : “ My God, protect 
Prussia ! Oh, bless our country and our people ! ” 
She stood thus praying, with uplifted arms. 

After a pause, she murmured, “ Now it is time 
to attend to my business with the jeweller. The 
king is in his cabinet, and never comes a,t this 
hour.” Having rung the bell, she ordered the 
footman to request the court-jeweller to call at 
once on the queen. Going to her dressing-room, 
she took from the table a large leathern box con- 
taining all her jewelry. She succeeded with diffi- 
culty in carrying the heavy box into the recep- 
tion-room, but she thought, smilingly : “ The 
heavier it is, the better.” Opening the caskets, 
the brilliant ornaments gladdened her more than 
they had ever done. The table was covered with 
them, and she contemplated their beauty and 
value. “ Ah ! ” she exclaimed, “ I did not know 
that I was so rich. These precious stones will 
certainly bring money enough to pay all arrears, 
and there will be something over for my chil- 
dren.” 

At this moment the door of the anteroom 
opened, and the footman announced Mr. Marcus, 
the court-jeweller. The queen ordered him to be 
admitted, adding, that no one else was to be an- 
nounced while he was present. She then locked 
the opposite door leading into the small corridor, 
and thence to the rooms of the king. In the 
mean time the jeweller had entered ; he remained 
respectfully at the door, and waited for the gueen 
to accost him. 

“ Mr. Marcus,” said Louisa, gracefully acknowl- 
edging his bow, “ I sent for you to confer about 
my jewelry. I should like to make some changes 
in it ; and then, as we cannot tell whither these 
stormy times may drive us or our property, I 
wish to make an invoice of these articles, and 
ascertain their cash value. Please step to the 
table, and be kind enough to tell me how much 
all this is worth.” 

Mr. Marcus approached and carefully examined 


the magnificent array before him. “ These are 
real treasures, your majesty,” he said, admiring- 
ly ; “ several pieces among them are exceedingly 
rich.” 

“ Yes,” exclaimed the queen, “ I suppose one 
could get a great deal of money for them ? ” 

“ Your majesty,” said Mr. Marcus, shrugging 
his shoulders, “ it needs much money — in fact, 
an enormous fortune, to buy them. Part of their 
value consists in their artistic setting.” 

“ Ah, I understand ; you mean to say that, if 
they were to be sold now, one would not get as 
much as was paid for them.” 

“ Not half as much, your majesty ! The in- 
trinsic value is very different from the cost, which 
depends much on the setting.” 

“ Pray tell me, then, their intrinsic value.” 

“ Your majesty, to do so correctly, it would be 
necessary for me to examine every piece.” 

“ Do so, Mr. Marcus. I will take my memo- 
randum-book and enter each one, affixing the 
price. Afterward we can ascertain the whole 
amount.” 

The jeweller looked in surprise at the queen; 
she apparently did not notice it, but pointed with 
the lead-pencil, which she had in her hand, at one 
of the caskets. “There is my large diamond 
necklace ; what do you think that is worth, 
sir ? ” 

The jeweller took up the necklace, twinkling 
as a cluster of stars. “ These diamonds are mag- 
nificent,” he said ; “ they are only a little yellow, 
and here and there is a slight defect. I think, 
however, that the stones, without the setting, are 
worth five thousand dollars.” 

“Five thousand dollars,” wrote the queen. 
“ Now, the necklace of rubies and diamonds.” 

“These Turkish rubies belong to that very 
rare kind to be met with only in royal treasu- 
ries,” said the jeweller. “ They are antique, and 
look like sparklmg blood. Their value is im- 
mense, your majesty ; only a connoisseur would 
be able to appreciate them, and it is difficult to 
appraise them but by the standard value of other 
Turkish rubies. A jeweller might, however, re- 
ceive twice as much as I name — four thousand 
dollars, according to the ordinary standard.” 

“ Four thousand dollars,” wrote the queen ; 
“ now, the next.” 

“ Here,” he said, “ is a complete set of the most 
beautiful round pearls : a diadem, a necklace, ear- 
rings, and bracelets,” taking up a large case which 
had not been opened, and raising its lid. 

“ No,” said the queen, blushing, “ we will not 
appraise these pearls. I have inherited them from 
my lamented mother, and they are therefore of 


15G 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


priceless value to me.” She extended her hand 
and laid the casket on the table at her side. 
“ Now tell me the value of the other articles ; take 
that necklace of Indian emeralds — ” 

Half an hour afterward the list was completed. 
“ Thirty thousand dollars,” said the queen ; “ that, 
then, is the full value of my jewelry ? ” 

“Yes, your majesty, but its cost must have 
been several hundred thousand dollars. I have 
stated only the imperishable value of the stones ; 
it is impossible to appraise the setting.” 

“Well, just now I care only for the cash equiv- 
alent,” said the queen, quickly. “And now, sir, 
listen to me. “ When I was requested to procure 
you the appointment of jeweller to the court, I 
made inquiries concerning your character, and 
heard nothing but the most flattering opinions. 
You are known as an honorable man in whom all 
may repose confidence. I will prove to you the 
high value I attach to public opinion, and I rely on 
you to keep secret what I am about to tell you.” 

“ I swear by all that is sacred that what your 
majesty is gracious enough to reveal shall remain 
buried in my heart as a precious gem in the depths 
of the sea.” 

“I believe you,” said the queen. “I want to 
sell all these diamonds, emeralds, and rubies — 
every thing, except my pearls.” 

“ Sell them ! ” exclaimed Mr. Marcus, starting 
back and turning pale. “ Oh, no, pardon me, 
your majesty, I have misunderstood you. My 
hearing is a little impaired. I beg pardon for my 
mistake, and request your majesty to be kind 
enough to repeat your orders.” 

“You did not mistake my words,” said the 
queen, kindly. “ I do want to seU them.” 

“Has it come to this,” said the jeweller, sigh- 
ing, “ that our noble and beautiful queen is un- 
willing to wear again her accustomed ornaments ; 
and that she consider^ it no longer worth while to be 
seen by her poor, unhappy people in the splendor 
of a queen ? ” Sobs choked his voice, and, unable 
to repress bis tears, he turned away and covered 
his face with his hands. 

“ It has come to that, sir, that the queen will 
also take part in the privations of her country ; 
that she will have no other diamonds than the 
grateful tears of her loyal people, and that she be- 
lieves herself sufficiently adorned when at the side 
of her husband, and surrounded by her children. 
I thank you for your sympathy, for they prove 
your honest disposition toward me. But believe 
me, I need no pity. If every good man has peace 
in his own heart, he will have cause to rejoice. 
And now, sir, let us talk calmly about this 
matter.” 


“ I am ready to receive the orders of your ma- 
jesty,” said Mr. Marcus, making an effort to regain 
his composure, “ and entreat my august queen to 
forgive me that my feelings overcame me in her 
presence. But now I must examine the jewels 
more carefully than before. Believing that they 
were merely to be invoiced without reference to 
their sale, I stated only their lowest value. I am 
sure better prices might be obtained for them, 
and, besides, it remains for me to ascertain the 
value of the gold setting by weighing it.” 

“ Oh, no,” said the queen, smiling. “ Let us 
not enter into such minute details. Besides, the 
purchaser ought to have something for his 
trouble, and for the risk of being unable to sell 
again. We will, therefore, let your first appraise- 
ment stand as it is. The question is, whether you 
know of any one who is willing to pay so large a 
sum in cash.” 

The jeweller reflected a moment. “Well,” he 
said, “I know an opportunity to dispose of them 
immediately. If your majesty permits me to do 
so, I will purchase them myself. The Emperor 
Alexander of Russia, during his late sojourn at 
this place, gave me a large order in reference to a 
wedding-gift for the betrothed of the Grand-duke 
Constantine. I have received bills of exchange, 
drawn on the wealthiest banking-houses of St. 
Petersburg, and the emperor has authorized me to 
send in at once precious stones to the amount of 
fifty thousand dollars. I am able to pay you half 
the appraised value to-day, and for the other half 
I will give you bills, drawn on St. Petersburg 
bankers, payable in two weeks. But I repeat to 
your majesty that I have appraised the stones at 
a very low rate, and that I shall make large 
profits, and realize at least four thousand dollars. 
Your majesty ought to permit me to add the value 
of the setting.” 

“ I told you already that we ought not to add 
any thing to the first appraisement. Well, the 
bargain is made,” said the queen, gently. “ Bring 
me the money and the bills of exchange, and 
you may then take the jewelry. Let us say I 
have intrusted it to you to make some alterations 
in it.” 

An hour afterward, the caskets disappeared 
from the queen’s table ; in their place stood a box 
filled with rolls of gold-pieces, and the bills of 
exchange lay at its side. The queen, placing a 
few of the rolls in her desk and the bills in the 
box, hastened to write the following letter to Baron 
von Stein : 

“ I request you to grant me the same favor 
which the prince obtained from you. I desire 
likewise to pay some savings into the state 


THE GENIUS OF PRUSSIA. 


157 


treasury, and send you, therefore, twenty-five 
thousand dollars with this letter. Pray do not 
forget to pay, in accordance with our agreement, 
tlie arrears of salaries due the men of science and 
art, and the faithful old servants of the king. 

“ Louisa.” 

“ Oh,” said the queen, laying aside the pen, and 
looking up with a grateful expression, “ how many 
worthy men will be delivered from distress by this 
unexpected payment ! What fervent prayers for 
their king will ascend to heaven ! Merciful God, 
hear them, and let my husband and children be 
again happy ; then I shall have nothing more to 
desire on earth !” 

In the evening of the same day Prince William, 
accompanied only by an adjutant and a footman, 
set out for Paris in order to deliver to the Emperor 
Napoleon the financial plan drawn' up by Minister 
von Stein, and the letter of Queen Louisa, and to 
try to induce Napoleon by verbal remonstrances 
to withdraw his demands, and accept less ruin- 
ous conditions. Before entering his travelling- 
coach, the prince, in his cabinet, bade farewell to 
her whom he loved so passionately. They re- 
mained long without uttering a word or even a 
sigh. The beautiful face of the Princess Marianne 
was pale, but her tearless eyes beamed with hope. 
“Go, my beloved husband,” she said, disengaging 
herself at last from the arms of the prince, “ go 
and perform your noble sacrifice ! My love will 
accompany you. Your life is my life, and your 
death my death ! Go ! I fear nothing.” 

“ But at this solemn hour I must communicate 
a secret to you, Marianne,” said the prince, “ and 
ask your consent to a resolution that I have taken. 
Should all my efforts be of no avail — should Na- 
poleon be induced neither by Stein’s plan nor by 
the queen’s letter, nor by my own solicitations, to 
consent to the proposed mode of liquidation, owing 
to his belief that he wmuld not have sufficient se- 
curity for the payment of the contributions, then, 
Marianne, a last remedy would remain, and I 
would assuredly not shrink from it. In that case 
I shall offer myself as a hostage. I shall tell' 
him that I must remain his prisoner, and allow 
myself to be transported to If, to Cayenne, or 
where he pleases, until the king has made all the 
promised payments. This will prove to him that 
I myself feel convinced that these will be made. 
He may be sure the king’s brother will be re- 
deemed. Tell me now, Marianne, do you approve 
my resolution ? ” 

The princess laid her hand on the head of her 
husband. “ You offer to surrender not only your- 
self but both of us,” she said. “ Both of us, 
William, for I want to be where you are. I will 


also share your devotion to Prussia. You may 
offer both of us as hostages to the emperor. I 
shall be happy when with you, whether in a dun- 
geon or in a palace. The love uniting us will sus- 
tain us even then, and, when our captivity is over, 
we will return happy to our beloved country. But 
if it be otherwise — if circumstances occur delay 
ing the payments, and calling down upon you 
the wrath of the conqueror — if he then desire to 
take revenge upon you — oh, then, I shall know 
how to find a way to his heart so that he will per- 
mit me to die with you. We are alone; our chil- 
dren are dead, and, therefore, we are at liberty to 
pursue such a course. Oh, William, then we shall 
be happy forever ! Go, my beloved husband ! and 
when the hour comes, call me to your side. Let 
us live, and, if need be, die for the fatherland ! 
Let it be inscribed on our coffin : ‘ They have 
done their duty. The fatherland is content with 
them ! ’ ” ^ 


CHAPTER XXXYIL 

THE GENIUS OP PRUSSIA. 

The queen was alone in her room. She sat on 
the sofa, and a dress of heavy silk, interwoven 
with flowers, lay spread out on the table before 
her. She turned over the dress, as if carefully 
examining it. “ Sure enough, there it is ! ” she 
suddenly exclaimed. “ Now, quick to work ! ” 
She hastened to her table, on which was to be 
seen a beautiful silk embroidery just finished by 
the queen. Among the threads she selected one 
that was of the same color as the dress, and hastily 
threaded her needle. “ Now I will finish my work 
before any one surprises me,” whispered Louisa. 

* Prince William really carried out this resolution. He 
found at his first interview that Napoleon was by no 
means friendly toward Prussia, and particularly toward 
King Frederick William. Carried away by his enthusiasm 
and generosity, the prince took at this audience the step 
which he had intended to reserve if all else should prove 
unavailing. He offered himself and his wife as hostages 
to the emperor, and entreated him to permit them to re- 
main in French captivity until the payments were made. 
Napoleon listened to him, and while he was speaking 
the countenance of the emperor gradually became milder. 
He approached the prince, embraced him affectionately, 
and exclaimed, “That is very generous, but it is impos* 
sible. Never would I accept such a sacrifice — never 1 
For the rest, the mission of the prince was an utter failure. 
Napoleon referred him to Minister Champagny, who, by 
all sorts of subterfuges, managed to protract and finally 
to break off the negotiations. The prince was detained 
several months in Paris, and returned, without having 
accomplished any thing, to Konigsberg, whither the royal 
family had removed in the mean time. 


158 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


She was so assiduously employed that she did not 
notice that the opposite door, softly opening, had 
admitted the king. He stood still for a moment 
and looked at the queen. Advancing, he asked, 
frowningly, “What are you doing, Louisa?” 

The queen uttered a cry, and a deep blush suf- 
fused her cheeks. Pushing aside the table and 
the dress, she rose from the sofa and went to 
salute her husband. “Welcome, dearest!” she 
said, lovingly clinging to him ; “ you knew that it 
was cold and lonely here, and you come to glad- 
den me. Thanks, my Frederick, thanks and wel- 
come! I feel as though you were given to me 
anew, and I greet you every morning as with the 
young heart of a bride.” She laid her beautiful 
head on his shoulder, and her delicate hand played 
with his hair. 

But the king did not return her caresses, and 
his eyes, which usually looked so lovingly at his 
wife, were directed to the dress on the table. 
“ You have not yet replied to me, Louisa,” he ex- 
claimed. 

“ Keplied to what ? ” she asked, raising her 
head from his shoulder, and calmly looking at 
him. 

“You know it,” said the king — “to my ques- 
tion.” 

“ To your question ? And what did you ask ? ” 
replied the queen. “ You asked me whether I 
loved you and had already thought of you this 
morning. Yes, my king and husband, you are 
the object of all my thoughts, and I think of you 
with every pulsation of my heart. And do you 
know what just occurred to me, and what I am 
going to propose to you ? It is a fine winter-day, 
and the snow is sparkling in the sun. We have 
half an hour until dinner. Let us improve it and 
take a walk. Let us go to our two princes, w^ho 
are skating with their instructor. Tell me, my 
friend, shall we do so? ” 

The king shook his head gloomily. “ You wish 
to divert me from my question,” he said, “ which 
proves that you have heard it. I will repeat it. 
What were you doing with that dress when I en- 
tered ? ” 

The queen hung her head in evident embar- 
rassment, and her face assumed a melancholy air. 
“ You insist on a reply, my husband ? ” she 
asked. “ I hoped you would notice my confu- 
sion, and generously desist.” 

“ I must know every thing that happens to 
you,” said the king ; “ I must know the full extent 
of our misfortunes, that I may not be deceived 
by any illusions. Tell me, therefore, what were 
Vou doing ? ” 

“Well, then, my husband, I will tell you,” said 


the queen, resolutely. “ I like the dress, not be- 
cause it is made of very costly and beautiful 
materials, but you yourself selected it for me. 
You know that we give a party to-morrow to cele- 
brate the birthday of the crown prince, and I 
wished to wear that dress. Now, I knew what 
no one else knew, that the last time I wore it I 
had torn it by a nail in the wall, on crossing the 
corridor. If I had informed my maid of this mis- 
hap, I should have been unable to wear it again, 
for custom, I believe, forbids queens to wear 
mended dresses. I was, however, bent on saving 
it. For this purpose I took it stealthily from my 
wardrobe to mend the small hole as rapidly as 
possible, while my lady of honor was taking a 
ride, and my maid was at dinner. I had just 
finished when you entered, and if you had come a 
few minutes latter the dress would have disap- 
peared, and no one would suspect to-morrow that 
my rich attire had been mended. Now, you 
know my secret, and I entreat you to keep it and 
allude to it no more. But you must also reply to 
me : shall we take a walk ? ” 

The king made no answer, but gazed at her with 
melancholy tenderness. “ You do this, Louisa, 
because you shrink from the expense of buying a 
new dress,” he said. “ Oh, do not deny it ; do 
not try to deceive me. I know it to be true.” 

“ And suppose it were true ? ” asked the queen, 
gently, drawing her head from his hands. “ Will 
you be sad because I do in these times what all 
our subjects are obliged to do — because I try to 
be a little economical ? ” 

“The Queen of Prussia, my consort,” exr 
claimed the king, “ is compelled to mend her 
own dresses ! Is the cup of disgrace and humili- 
ation not yet full ! ” 

“ And why do you speak of disgrace ? ” asked 
the queen, laying her hands on the shoulders of 
her husband, and looking tenderly in his face, 
“Why do you say I humble myself by mend- 
ing my dress ? I only followed the example of 
your noble ancestor, Frederick II. Did not the 
great king also mend and patch his clothes? 
Did he not repair with sealing-wax his scabbard, 
because he did not want to buy a new one ? 
Well, I believe little Louisa will bo allowed to 
do as the great Frederick did, and need not be 
ashamed of it. On the contrary, my husband, 
when I sat there sewing, my heart was glad, for 
the memories of my early years revived in my 
mind : I saw myself at the side of my venerable 
grandmother, the Landgravine of Ilesse-Darm- 
stadt, and I lived again in those sunny days that 
I spent with her in Hanover. My grandmother 
taught me how to mend, and I frequently profited 


THE GENIUS OF PRUSSIA. 


159 


by the skill I had acquired with her. For you 
married the daughter of a poor prince, who was 
not a sovereign at that time, but only a younger 
brother, and the Queen of Prussia does not blush 
to confess that when she was yet a princess of 
Mecklenburg, she not only mended her dresses 
but even trimmed her shoes with her own hands. 
It is no jest, my king and husband, I really often 
did so, and I never felt humiliated. Never did I 
consider it a disgrace to do sometimes what 
thousands of rthe most virtuous and amiable 
women are always doing. When I used to sew 
my shoes, I was poor, for I did not yet know you ; 
but now, although I have repaired my dress, I am 
rich, for I have you — I have my children — I am 
the wife of a man who suffers because he values 
his honor higher .than worldly greatness — who 
would perish rather than break an alliance he has 
sworn to, and refuses to give his neck to th§ 
tyrant’s yoke. Oh, my husband, when I look at 
you, my soul is transported with gladness, and I 
thank God that I am allowed to love you. Since 
you are mine t feel happy, rich, and powerful.” 

She placed her beautiful arms around the king, 
who pressed her against his breast. “ Thanks, 
my Louisa ! thanks for your joyful love. Your 
eyes gladden my life, and your voice is the only 
music that can lull my grief. That is the reason 
I come to you now. I seek here consolation in 
my affliction, for when you help me to bear the 
burden, it is less oppressive. I have received 
two letters to-day which gave me pain, and which 
I desire to communicate to you.” 

. “ I shall be grateful to you, my husband, for 
doing so,” said the queen. “ Come, let us sit 
down together, and communicate the letters to 
me. Who wrote them ? Whence did they 
come ? ” 

“ One is from Konigsberg, from our daughter 
Charlotte.” 

“ From -Charlotte ! ” exclaimed the queen, 
starting. “ Has any thing happened to her ? Has 
she been taken ill ? ” 

“ No, she is well, and nothing has happened to 
her. She is, on the contrary, in excellent spirits, 
and, like all young girls, wishes to dress well. 
She writes to me, asking me to send her money 
that she may renew her winter wardrobe. Here 
is the letter.” 

The queen quickly glanced over it. “ Oh, the 
dear, good child,” she exclaimed, “ how tenderly 
she loves us — ^liow prettily and affectionately she 
gives expression to her feelings ! And yet she 
often appears outwardly cold and indifferent. — 
She resembles her noble father ; she does not 
bear her heart on her tongue, but it throbs lov- , 


ingly in her bosom. She is seemingly re- 
served and haughty, but she is affectionate. If 
God permits her to live I anticipate a brilliant 
future for her.” * 

“ A brilliant future ! ” echoed the king ; “ for 
my daughter — for the daughter of a king without 
a kingdom — of a man who is so poor as to be 
unable to gratify her just and modest wishes ! 
She asks for money to replenish her winter ward- 
robe. Now, do you know what I have written to 
her ? I have sent her five dollars, and given her 
at the same time the wretched consolation to be 
content Avith that sum, for it was all I could 
spare.” 

“Well,” said the queen, with a gentle smile, 
“ at all events, five dollars will enable her to buy 
a warm winter dress, and by and by our finances 
will improve.” 

“ I do not see any such prospect,” exclaimed 
the king, vehemently. “ All our resources are 
exhausted ; all the public funds are gone, and 
even your generosity will be unable to create 
new ones. My noble queen, in generous self- 
denial, sacrifices her jewels in order to gladden 
and comfort others, and to lay her own contribu- 
tion on the altar of her country. She did not 
think of herself in doing so.” 

“ Yes, I did,” said the queen, smiling, “ I did 
think of myself. I reserved five thousand dollars, 
and with that sum all the bills we owed — all our 
debts for the household, for the stable, and the 
servants, have been paid. But you intended 
communicating two letters to me. What about 
the second ? ” 

“ The second,” said the king, mournfully, “ is a 
farewell from my faithful subjects in the prov- 
ince of Mark, whom, alas ! with a heavy heart, 
I have absolved from their oath of allegiance, 
and ordered to serve another sovereign, and to 
obey the new King of Westphalia. I am not 
ashamed of confessing it, Louisa, I wept on writ- 
ing to them, and on reading their reply. There 
it is. Read it aloud. It wiU do me good to hear 
again these touching words.” 

The queen unfolded the large letter, to which 
several official seals were attached, and read in a 
tremulous voice : 

“ Our heart was rent when we read your fare- 
well letter, good king. We cannot believe even 
now that we, who always loved you so affection- 
ately, are to cease being your subjects. As sure 
as we live, it was neither your fault, nor ours, 

*Tbe very words of the queen. — Yide “Queen 
Louisa,” p. 302. This prophecy was fulfilled, for the 
Princess Charlotte afterward married the Emperor of 
Eussia. 


ICO 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


that your generals and ministers were too con- 
fused after the defeat of Jena to march the dis- 
persed divisions of the army to us, and to lead 
them, united with our whole people, into a struggle 
which, with the blessing of God, would have been 
successful. We would have willingly risked our 
lives, for you must not doubt that the blood of 
the ancient Cheruscians is still flowing in our 
veins ; that we are proud of calling Hermann 
and Wittekind countrymen of ours, and of know- 
ing that on our soil was that field of battle where 
our ancestors defeated their enemies in so deci- 
sive a manner that they never fought again. 
We also would assuredly have saved the father- 
land, for we have, we believe, marrow in our 
bones, and remain uncorrupted by modern lux- 
ury and effeminacy. But no one can escape 
the decrees of Providence. Oh, farewell, then, 
our father and king ! Heaven grant you more 
faithful generals and more sagacious ministers 
for the remainder of your states ! You are not om- 
niscient, and you were sometimes obliged to fol- 
low them into blind paths. Unfortunately, we 
must also submit to what cannot be helped. 
God help us ! We trust our new sovereign will be 
a father to us, and honor and respect our language 
and customs, our faith and rights, as you always 
did, dear and beloved king ! Health, joy, and 
peace ! ” 

“ And you call us poor and disgraced when 
such hearts are throbbing for us,” exclaimed the 
queen, with radiant eyes. “No, we are rich, 
for our subjects love us, and even when com- 
pelled to part with you, they send you their love- 
greetings ! ” 

“ But I cannot reward their love ; I have no 
means of showing how my heart appreciates it,” 
exclaimed the king, mournfully. “Oh, Louisa, I 
am a poor, wretched man ; my heart is despond- 
ing, and even your cheering words are unable to 
console it. Wherever I look, whatever plans I 
form, I see nowhere a prospect of change for the 
better. My country is occupied by hordes of for- 
eign soldiers. My subjects, exposed to the over- 
bearing and avarice of the French, who think 
they are sovereign rulers of my states, are vainly 
praying to their king to come to their assistance. 
Their courage is exhausted ; their strength gone ; 
commerce is prostrated ; manufacturers and me- 
chanics are idle ; the farmers have no seed-corn, 
nor courage to cultivate their fields, for they 
know that they will be robbed of the fruits of 
their labor. Our soldiers walk about with bowed 
heads, and scarcely dare to wear their uniforms, 
for they remind them of Jena and Auerstadt, of 
tlie capitulation of Prenzlau, of the surrender of 


so many fortresses, and, like myself, they wish 
they had been buried on the battle-field of Jena. 
Want, misery, and suffering are everywhere, and I 
am unable to help ! I must still permit the en- 
emy to inundate my states, although it was ex- 
pressly stipulated by the treaty of Tilsit that the 
French army was to evacuate Prussia in the 
course of two months. I must also permit the 
Emperor Napoleon (though after the conclusion 
of peace, and contrary to the treaty) to take New 
Silesia, and add her to the kingdom of Warsaw ; to 
transform the two leagues of the new territory of 
Dantzic into two German miles, and, without 
even asking my consent, to deprive me of my 
property. But I am determined to suffer this in- 
justice and humiliation no longer, and to make 
the last sacrifice.” 

“ What are you going to do, my husband ? ” 
exclaimed the queen, laying her hand with an 
anxious gesture on the arm of her husband. 
“ What sacrifice ? ” 

“Myself!” said the king, gloomily, “for it is I 
alone who bring misfortune on my people. A 
sinister fatality pursues me, and has pursued me 
from my earliest youth. Only one star ever rose 
on my troubled firmament, and that was you, 
Louisa. But it will not set, even though I carry 
out my purpose. In solitude and sorrow it will 
still shine hopefully upon me. My childhood was 
wretched, and embittered by long-continued suf- 
ferings ; while I was cro^\^l prince, I had to sub- 
mit to the affliction of not possessing the heart of 
my father, and of being unable to approve his 
actions. I was so unfortunate as to be compelled 
to begin the first day of my reign with a demon- 
stration against his course by having the w'oman 
arrested whom he had loved so long and ar- 
dently, and to whom the final wishes and 
thoughts of the dying sovereign had been de- 
voted, It is his spirit, perhaps, that now brings 
all these calamities upon me. But my people 
shall not suffer ; I will deliver them from the 
fatal influences attaching them to me, and in order 
to conciliate my fate I will voluntarily lay down 
my crown.” 

“ Never ! my husband, never shall you do 
so,” exclaimed the queen in great excitement. 
“ Never shall my noble and brave king declare 
that his spirit is crushed and vanquished. Ma- 
jesty would thereby render itself guilty of suicide. 
For majesty, like life, is a boon sent by Prov; 
dence, and you are no more allowed to divest 
yourself of it arbitrarily than to put a voluntary 
end to your life. And, least of all, are you per 
mitted to do so in times of adversity and danger, 
for such a course would look like cowardice with 


THE GENIUS OF PRUSSIA. 


161 


which my king and husband assuredly cannot 
be charged. Charles V. and Christina of Swe- 
den were at liberty to abdicate, for Avhen they 
did so they were at the acme of their power, 
and yet they ever repented of it ; they felt that 
all nations were scornfully exclaiming : ‘ Behold 
the faithless, suicidal servant of God ! Behold 
the stigma on that anointed brow ! The crown 
sanctifies the head that wears it. But that cow- 
ard has dishonored himself, and the glory that 
God gave him.’ Oh, my beloved husband, the 
nations must never speak in this manner of you ; 
the annals of history must never report that you 
deserted your people when they were oppressed, 
and that, in order to obtain peace and safety for 
yourself, you gave up your country, and cast away 
your crown. It is true, fortune is imposing 
grievous burdens on us ; but at such a time it 
behooves a true man to meet adversity with a 
bold front.” 

“ Ah, if I were possessed of your unwavering 
faith and cheerfulness ! ” said the king, profound- 
ly sighing. “ But my hope is gone ; our misfor- 
tunes have crushed out not my courage but my 
belief in a better future.” 

“ And yet they were necessary that we might 
one day obtain real happiness,” said Louisa. 
“ Oh, I begin to perceive distinctly that the 
events which have afiOicted us will redound to 
our own welfare. Providence is evidently intro- 
ducing a new era, because the old one has out- 
lived itself. We fell asleep on the laurels of 
Frederick the Great, who was the master-spirit 
of another century ; we did not progress with the 
times, and they outstripped us.” 

“ There must be many changes, I am satisfied, 
in our administration,” said the king, thought- 
fully. “ The array must be reorganized, and those 
who in the hour of danger are cowards must be 
judged with inexorable severity. Alas ! all this 
will be in vain ; I succeed in accomplishing noth- 
ing ; all my measures turn out to my detriment, 
and to the advantage of our enemy.” 

It is true,” said the queen, sighing, “ he has 
much success. Even our most deliberate plans 
are fruitless. Though the Russians and Prussians 
fight like lions, and are not defeated, they are 
obliged to evacuate the field of battle, and the 
French emperor claims a victory. Nevertheless, 
it would be blasphemous to say that God was on 
his side ; he is an instrument of Providence in 
order to bury that in which life is extinct, but 
which still clings to that destined to live. We 
may derive lessons from him, and what he has 
accomplished ought not to be lost to us. Oh, I 
firmly believe in Providence, and a great moral 
11 


system ruling the world. I cannot see it, how- 
ever, in the brutal reign of force, and hence I 
believe that these times will be succeeded by 
more prosperous ones. All good men hope for 
them, and the eulogists of the hero of this _day 
must not mislead us. All that has happened is 
not the ultimate order of things ; it is a severe yet 
salutary preparation for a new and better des- 
tiny. We must not delude ourselves, my beloved 
friend, with the idea that this is remote ; in spite 
of all obstacles, we must strive to reach it with 
strength, courage, and cheerfulness. With the 
merciful assistance of Providence, we must con- 
tinue to battle for our honor and our rights ! ” 

“ Yes, be it so ! ” exclaimed the king, “ God is 
with me, for He has placed you at my side ; He 
has given me an angel who fills my heart with 
that courage which is based on faith in Him. Oh, 
forgive my timidity and despondency; I pledge 
you my word I will meet the future with a strong 
heart. Only remain with me, my dearest Louisa ; 
look at me with your cheering eyes, and inspire 
my heart with hope. Whenever I falter, remind 
me of this hour in which I vowed to you to strug- 
gle to the last.” 

“ Thanks, my king and husband ! ” exclaimed 
the queen ; “ whatever may happen, let us meet 
it, united in love, hope, and faith in God ! ” 

“ Yes,” said the king ; “ adversity itself is not 
devoid of exalted moments, and you, my Louisa, 
have become dearer to me in these days. I know 
now by experience what a treasure you are to me. 
Let the storm rage outside, if all is calm within.” 

“ It is my pride and happiness to possess the 
love of the best of men,” said the queen ; “ and 
though we leave no inheritance to our children, 
we shall leave them at least the example of our 
wedded life ; let them learn from it to be happy 
in themselves.” 

“ Madame la Reine est seme / ” shouted a merry 
voice behind them ; and when the queen turned, 
she saw her son, Crown-Prince Frederick Wil- 
liam, who approached her with rosy cheeks and 
laughing eyes. “ Pardon me, dearpt parents, for 
venturing to enter the room without your permis- 
sion, but I longed to salute you, and therefore 
assumed the duty of the steward, who was about 
to announce that dinner is ready.” 

“ And I suppose my son found this announce- 
ment exceedingly interesting, and longed just as 
much for his dinner as for his parents,” exclaimed 
the queen, smiling and looking with beaming eyes 
at her favorite son. 

“ Oh, no, no,” said the crown prince, laughing, 
“ I thought first of my beloved parents, but then 
— ^yes, I tionfess the idea of getting my dinner is 


162 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


very agreeable, considering that I have been on 
the ice for several hours.” 

“ Well, my husband,” asked the queen, merrily, 
“ shall we comply with the wishes of the young 
epicure ? Shall we permit him to conduct us to 
the dining-room ? ” 

“ Yes, certainly,” said the king, offering his 
arm to his wife. “ Lead the way, M. Steward ! ” 
The crown prince assumed a grave air, and, after 
bowing to his. parents in the reverential manner 
of a royal steward, he preceded t^iem with lu- 
dicrous strides, and commenced singing in a ring- 
ing voice : “ Immer langsam voran, dass die oes- 
terreicJische landxoelir nachkommen hannP * 

The king laughed more heartily than he had 
done for many weeks, while the queen looked 
lovingly at her son who had performed ^his mir- 
acle. 

4 

CHAPTER XXXYIII. 

A FAMILY DINNER. 

In the dining-room was William, the younger 
prince, who hastened to his parents, and returned 
the tender salutation of his beautiful mother by 
covering her hand with kisses. There were no 
guests at the royal table ; the king preferred to 
dine en famille^ and for several days the queen 
had ordered the ladies and gentlemen of the 
court to dine by themselves, and only with the 
royal family when company was not distasteful to 
her husband. The king looked with a smile of 
content at the small table, on which he noticed 
only four covers, and, conducting his wife to her 
seat, he, said, with a grateful glance, “You have 
anticipated my most secret wishes, Louisa ; I like, 
above all, to dine alone with my family. Guests 
and strange faces always bring etiquette with them, 
and that renders our repasts formal and unpleas- 
ant. Thanks, Louisa ! ” 

It was a very frugal meal, hardly suitable to a 
royal dinner-table. Frederick William and the 
queen, however, contentedly partook of the plain, 
wholesome food ; and, gayly chatting, they did 
not seem to notice that the dinner was served 
up in common china dishes, and that the plates 
before them were of the same cheap material. 
Prince William ate with the appetite of a healthy 
little boy; the crown prince, however, who was 
twelve years old, did not seem to relish his food. 
He had disposed of his soup, although he thought 

* “Always slowly forward, that the Austrian landwehr 
may be able to follow ” — a well-known humorous song, 
ridiculing the slowness of the Austrian militia. 


/ 

it weak and not well flavored, supposing the other 
courses would be more to his taste. But when it 
was succeeded by roast meat and cabbage, he made 
a wry face, and handled his fork very daintily. 

“ I suppose you do not like cabbage ? ” asked 
the king, who had noticed the reluctant appetite 
of the crown prince. 

“ No, your majesty,” said the prince, smiling, 
“ there are dishes that I like better, although I 
know it to be a very respectable one, with which 
the French just now are made acquainted. I will 
leave the shucrout * to them, and console myself 
in the mean time with thinking of two things — of 
the entremets now, and of my birthday to-mor- 
row.” 

“ I suppose you entertain a good many ^vishe3 
in regard to your birthday ? ” asked the king, 
putting more cabbage on his own plate. “ Tell 
me, Fred, what is it you wish ? ” 

“Above all, that my gracious father and my 
dear mother may continue to love^ me,” said the 
crown prince, glancing at the queen, who nodded 
to him. “ But, besides, I have a few other wishes. 
In the first place, I would like to have a nice 
horse with handsome new saddle and bridle, and 
I would like to be allowed to take frequent rides 
with my parents, but always at a gallop — at a full 
gallop ! ” 

“ But, Fred, that would be bad for you, con- 
sidering that you are not yet a skilful horseman,” 
exclaimed the queen, laughing. 

“Well, then,” said the prince, gravely, “I wish 
for another birthday present, that I may become 
a skilful horseman without learning, for that is a 
very unpleasant and slow affair, as I found it out 
again to-day, when, in skating, I wanted to imi- 
tate my teacher in describing a circle on the ice, 
and only succeeded in falling on my nose ! ” 

“ Every thing in the world has to be learned,” 
said the king, “ and although you may at first fall, 
you learn thereby to stand the firmer afterward, 
and to keep your head erect. But have you told 
us all your birthday wishes, or are there any 
more ? ” 

“ Oh, there are a great many yet, your majes- 
ty,” exclaimed the prince, laughing. “ If I could 
sow all my great and small wishes, like the drag- 
on’s teeth of Cadmus, I would be at the head of 
a very pretty regiment of soldiers to-morrow.” 

“ It is strange how many desires young folks 
have nowadays,” said the king, thoughtfully. 
“ That boy, although he is but twelve years old, 
wishes to have a saddle-horse as a birthday pres- 
ent, and in times so hard as these ! When I was 


* French pronunciation of sour-crout. 




A FAMILY DINNER. p. 162. 






N" 



A FAMILY DINNER. 


163 


as old as you, there were golden times in Prussia, 
and yet I did not receive many presents on my 
birthday. Sometimes I had to be content with 
nothing but a small flower-pot, worth a few shil- 
lings, and if my instructor wished to be particu- 
larly kind to me he took me to a public garden, 
and treated me to one, or, at the best, two sil- 
ver groschens’ worth of cherries.” 

“ Oh,” said the queen, with tearful eyes, “ it 
makes my heart ache when I think of the cheer- 
less youth of your good and noble father, and of 
the sufferings he had to undergo under his harsh 
instructor.” 

“ It is true, Counsellor Benisch was a rigorous 
and harsh man,” said the king; “he treated me 
very roughly, often wreaked his ill-humor upon 
me, and thought he ought to rob me entirely of 
my youthful pleasures. He did not do so because 
he was a bad man, but because he believed it to 
be the best system of education. And then it 
produced good fruits. I learned early to bear 
disagreeable things, and uncomplainingly to do 
without agreeable ones ; thus I succeeded in sub- 
mitting to a great deal that seemed intolerably 
burdensome to others. When I was a boy, it 
was a holiday for me, for instance, when the en- 
tremets at dinner consisted of omelet, while I see 
that our Prince Fred is no better satisfied with 
that than with the cabbage.” 

“Your majesty is right; I do not like either,” 
said the crown prince, “ and it w'as in vain that I 
consoled myself with the hope that there was 
something more to my taste.” 

“ What ? ” exclaimed the queen, smiling. “ You 
do not like omelet ? If you are a true son of 
mine, it must become a favorite dish, for when I 
was your age, I greatly liked it ; and if you will 
now eat a good plate of it, I will tell you a story 
about omelet and salad.” 

“ Oh, mamma, just see, I have liberally sup- 
plied my plate ; I am, therefore, entitled to the 
story,” exclaimed the crown prince. 

“ I will tell the story if the king will permit 
me,” said the queen, looking at her husband. 

“ The king requests you to do so,” said Fred- 
erick William, nodding pleasantly. “ I wish to 
hear your story, Louisa; you always know new 
and very pretty ones ; your memory is really a 
little treasury ! ” 

“ It is not a very interesting story, after all,” 
said the queen, thoughtfully, “ except to myself 
as a youthful reminiscence. — I had gone with my 
father and my brother George to Frankfort-on- 
the-Main to witness the coronation of the Em- 
peror Leopold. I remember but little of the fes- 
tivities, for at that time I was only fourteen years 


old, and the pompous ceremonies, together with 
the deafening shouts of the populace (who cheered 
the roast ox, larded with rabbits, no less enthu- 
siastically than the German emperor), were in- 
describably tedious to me.” 

“ Dear mamma,” exclaimed the crown prince, 
“ possibly the people may have taken the roast 
ox for the German emperor.” 

“ Possibly my witty son may be right,” said 
the queen, “ and the people may have rejoiced in 
so boisterous a manner because they were better 
pleased with the roast ox than with the emperor 
himself. The ceremonies lasted too long for me, 
and as all eyes were fixed on the emperor, and 
no one paid any attention to the daughter of a 
younger son of Mecklenburg, I softly slipped from 
the gallery of the princes, beckoned to my sister 
Frederica, and, followed by our governess, dear 
Madame Gelieux, we left the Roemer, and entered 
our carriage, which made but slow headway 
through the dense crowd, but finally conveyed us 
to a more quiet street. We intended to do hom- 
age to some one else — to pay our respects to the 
king of hterature. We desired to make a pil- 
grimage to the place where the greatest poet of 
Germany was born, and visit the dear lady his 
mother, Mde. Counsellor Goethe. 

“ Our heart was transported with gladness 
when the carriage halted in front of the door, 
and a handsome face, with dark, brilliant eyes, ap- 
peared at the window, and nodded to us very cor- 
dially. We were old friends and acquaintances, 
and, therefore, did not beg leave to enter, but 
hastened directly into the sitting-room. Madame 
Goethe met us with a kind salutation, and made 
a sign to the servant-girl to remove the table 
standing in the middle of the room. But we saw 
that the dish was still filled, and that Madame 
Goethe, after returning from the coronation, was 
about to take diijner. 

“ ‘ Madame Goethe,’ we exclaimed, ‘ if you do 
not have your dinner immediately served up, we 
shall leave at once, and will never believe again 
that you are our friend, and that we are your 
children, as you always call us. If you will eat, 
and permit us to be present, we will remain ; but 
if you persist in receiving us ceremoniously as 
princesses, and in having the dinner removed, we 
must go.’ ‘ Good heavens,’ exclaimed the good 
lady, in* surprise, ‘ I will comply Avith the wishes 
of the little princesses, and eat if they insist on 
it. I am only ashamed of my dinner to-day, for 
I have permitted the cook to go to the corona- 
tion, and she has not yet returned. The cham- 
bermaid, therefore, prepared some food for me ; 
it is so plain, however, that I cannot invite you 


164 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


to partake of it.’ — ‘ Oh, we do not want to eat, 
but only to sit with you,’ exclaimed Frederica and 
I ; we then took the arms of the old lady and 
conducted her to the table. She sighed, but 
yielded to our solicitations. We sat down oppo- 
site her, and Madame Gelieux took a seat close to 
us in the window-niche. Madame Goethe quickly 
ate her soup, and raug the bell for the servant to 
bring the second course. When she appeared 
and placed two dishes on the table, madame be- 
came greatly embarrassed. ‘ That is a dinner,’ 
she said, ‘ that ought to be ashamed of showing 
its inear; face in the pfesence of two little prin- 
cesses so beautiful, and dressed in brocade ! 
Why, it is nothing but an omelet and a salad.’ 
And she then cut off a small piece of the omelet 
and put it among the green leaves of the salad. 
We looked on, and the dish seemed by far more 
desirable to us than the imperial ox. In spite of 
our brocade dresses, we were not at jjll ashamed 
of having a strong appetite. I looked at my sis- 
ter Frederica, and she looked at me, and then 
both of us looked at the omelet, and at our gov- 
erness. Finally, I was unable to resist the temp- 
tation any longer, and said, timidly, ‘ Madame 
Goethe, pray let me also have a little.’ ‘ Ah, yes, 
dear madame,’ said my sister, ‘give us some.’ ” 

The two princesses interrupted the queen’s 
narrative by loud laughter, and the king him- 
self joined gayly in it. 

“ That was right, mamma,” exclaimed the 
crown prince. “ Your story has given me an ex- 
cellent appetite for omelet, and I have eaten all 
on my plate.” 

“ That is just what I intended,” said the queen, 
smiling. 

“ But what is the end of the story ? ” asked the 
crown prince. “ Did Madame Goethe give you 
some ? I hope she complied with the request of 
the Queen of Prussia.” 

“ I was not yet Queen of Prussia, my son,” said 
Louisa, with a slight expression of melancholy ; 
“ but even queens beg sometimes in vain. Then, 
however, I did not. The kind old lady cheerfully 
consented, and it was of no avail that Madame 
Gelieux admonished us not to deprive Madame 
Goethe of her dinner, and not to eat at so unusual 
an hour. We moved our chairs to the table ; 
Madame Goethe laid two covers for us, and, not- 
withstanding the brocade dresses, and the corona- 
tion of the emperor, the two princesses of Meck- 
lenburg commenced partaking of the omelet and 
salad with the strong appetite of peasant girls. 
Madame Goethe looked at us with a smile ; our 
governess, however, frowningly. But only after 
eating all before us, did we look up and see the 


kind countenance of Madame Goethe, and the 
angry air of Madame Gelieux. The dish had 
greatly increased our courage ; instead of being 
afraid of the governess, we only looked at the 
face of the dear old lady, and when she said, 
‘Now I wish I had some good dessert for my two 
little princesses,’ I exclaimed quickly, ‘ I know 
something that I would like to have for dessert ! ’ 

“ ‘ I know it also ! ’ exclaimed sister Frederica, 
‘ we have already been wishing for it for a whole 
week.’ ‘ Well, what is it ? ’ asked Madame 
Goethe. ‘ Tell me what you wish, and I pledge 
you my word your wish shall be fulfilled, if it is 
at all in my power.’ ‘ Dear Madame Goethe,’ 
I exclaimed, imploringly, ‘ a week ago we saw 
your servant-girl pumping water at the well, and 
we have ever since been longing to pump water 
just once ! ’ ‘ Yes, to pump water just once, but 

to our heart’s content,’ begged sister Frederica. 
‘ You shall do so ! ’ exclaimed Madame Goethe, 
laughing merrily, ‘ come, we will go to the well 
in the yard ; there you may pump.’ ‘ No, me&- 
dames^ that is impossible,’ exclaimed the govern- 
ess, approaching in her dignity, and placing her- 
self with outspread arms in front of the door, 

‘ never shall I consent to so unseemly a proceed- 
ing.’ ‘ Unseemly I ’ exclaimed Madame Goethe, 
indignantly. ‘ Why should it be unseemly for the 
dear little princesses to move their arms like other 
children, and to draw up the fresh spring-water. 
It is an innocent pleasure, and they shall have it 
as sure as I am Goethe’s mother. Come, I will 
conduct you to the well.’ And she walked proudly 
across the room to the small door opposite. We 
accompanied her, and slipped out, Madame Goethe 
following us. When Gelieux exclaimed she would 
never permit us to pump water, and would, if need 
be, use force to prevent us from doing so, Ma- 
dame Goethe shouted angrily : ‘ I should like to 
see the person that would deprive the little prin- 
cesses of such a pleasure, which they can enjoy 
only at my house ! ’ And just as the governess 
had reached the door, Madame Goethe closed and 
bolted it. And we, naughty children, went to 
the well and pumped water until our arms were 
quite weak and tired. That is my story of the 
omelet and salad, and the pumping for dessert,” 
said the queen, concluding her narrative, and 
bowing with a sweet smile to her husband. 

The king nodded pleasantly to her. “ I would 
I were a painter ! ” he said ; “ I should paint the 
scene where both of you are sitting at the round 
table and eating, while Madame Goethe is look- 
ing kindly on, and your governess with an angry 
frown. It would be a pretty picture, I should 
think.” 


A FAMILY DINNER. 


165 


“And I, although no painter, will draw the 
other picture,” exclaimed the crown prince ; “ oh, 
I see it distinctly before me. A fine old tree in a 
large yard ; under the tree a well, and the two 
princesses pumping. Madame Goethe in her old- 
fashioned dress, and at the open window of the 
side-building the angry face of the governess. 
Oh, as his majesty says, it wiU certainly be a 
pretty picture, and if my mother will graciously 
permit, I shall present it to her as a proof of my 
gratitude for her beautiful story.” 

“ Dear, dear mamma,” exclaimed Prince Wil- 
liam, “ if you know another story about an ome- 
let, pray tell it to us, and I will then also try to 
paint the scene for you like Fred.” 

“ See, Louisa, what you have done,” said the 
king, laughing. “ They are anxious to hear your 
stories, and will, perhaps, become great painters, 
if you tell them more about omelets.” 

“ That will unfortunately not happen, my hus- 
band,” said the queen, smiling, “ for I do not 
know any other stories. It is true,” she added, 
musingly, “ I remember another omelet that 
caused me a great deal of pleasure.” 

“ Where was it, dearest, dearest mamma ? Oh, 
pray tell us,” exclaimed the crown prince. 

“Pray tell us, mamma,” begged little Prince 
William ; “ be so gracious as to tell us a story for 
my pictiu’e ! ” 

Louisa looked at her husband. The king nod- 
ded. “ Your last story was so appetizing,” he 
said, gayly, “ that I am quite ready to have 
another.” 

“I ate this second omelet during our journey to 
East Prussia, where the estates of the province 
were to take the oath of allegiance. Oh, my be- 
loved children, that was a splendid journey. The 
whole world was spread out before me like a 
bright summer day ; everywhere I heard nothing 
but greetings of love. Everywhere addresses and 
banquets ! festoons, pealing bells, children and 
young ladies strewing flowers ! And our good 
people did not receive us in so festive a manner 
through compulsion, or in accordance with an old 
custom, but because their hearts impelled them ; 
for they had already perceived that the young 
king, your noble father, would also be their ben- 
efactor; they loved and worshipped their king, 
and, in their kindness, transferred part of their 
love and veneration to myself. We had already 
passed through Stargard ; the king had preceded 
me to Coeslin, and I was following him. At noon 
I arrived in a large village at no great distance 
from Coeslin. All the peasants and peasant- 
women came to meet me, dressed in their holiday 
attire, and the supervisor of the village, to whose 


hat a large bouquet had been fastened, stepped up 
to the carriage to deliver an address to me. It 
contained but a few artless words; the kind- 
hearted man begged me, in the name of the peo- 
ple, to do their village the honor to alight, and 
partake of some refreshment, for they desired to 
entertain the “ mother of the country,” that the 
inhabitants of the cities might not deem this an 
exclusive privilege. You may imagine that I al- 
lowed the gentleman to conduct me to the farm- 
house where the entertainment had been prepared. 
The cloth was laid on a round table in the small 
sitting-room, and a huge omelet lay in a large 
pewter dish. I laughed, and, to the great delight 
of the peasants looking through the open windows 
into the room, ate a large piece, while the girls 
outside sang with the voices of larks.” 

“ And the omelet constituted the whole enter- 
tainment ? ” asked the crown prince, laughing. 

“ Oh, no, my little epicure ; there was also a 
dessert : bread, and fresh butter wrapped in green 
leaves, and more fragrant than we ever have it.” 

“ That is a good dessert,” exclaimed the prince. 
“ It seems to me the entertainment was not so 
bad, and — ” 

At this moment the door opened. High-Cham- 
berlain von Schladen entered and approached the 
king. “ Pardon me, sire, for venturing to disturb 
you,” he said. “ A peasant and a peasant-woman 
have just arrived. They ask urgently and im- 
ploringly to see your majesty; and, on being told 
that you were at dinner, the woman insisted only 
the more to be at once admitted to her majesty, 
for she had brought her something necessary to a 
good dumer. I confess, the bearing of these per- 
sons is so simple and kind-hearted that I ven- 
tured to disturb you, even at the risk of being re- 
buked for it.” 

“Where do they come from? ” asked the king, 
musingly. 

“ From the lowlands of the Vistula, near 
Culm, sire, and it seems to me they belong to 
the sect of the Mennonites, for they never take 
off their hats, and address everybody with ‘ thee.’ 
— These patriotic persons have performed their 
journey on foot, and say that their eyes have 
known no slumber, and their feet no rest, since 
they left their village in order to see the king and 
queen.” 

“ Oh, my husband,” exclaimed the queen, “ pray 
do not make them wait any longer. They come 
hither to manifest their love for us, and love must 
never be kept waiting in the anteroom.” 

“ That is not my intention,” said the king, smil- 
in". “We will admit them at once. Come, Lou- 
isa, let u«; go to your sitting-room, and M. von 


166 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


Schladen will be so kind as to conduct tbem 
thither.” He offered his arm to Louisa, she wrap- 
ped herself more closely in the Turkish shawl that 
covered her shoulders, and, taking leave of the 
two princes with a tender smile, repaired with the 
king to her own room. 

A few minutes afterward the door opened, 
and M. von Schladen ushered in Abraham Nickel 
and his wife. The queen sat on a sofa ; and the 
king, supporting his hand on the back of it, stood 
by her side. Both of them saluted the peasants, 
who approached slowly, and who, in their simple, 
neat costume, with their pleasant, healthy faces, 
which betrayed no embarrassment whatever, made 
a very agreeable impression. The woman carried 
on her arm a basket carefully covered with green 
leaves. The man held in his right hand a small 
gray bag, which seemed to be heavy. Both saluted 
the royal couple very reverentially — the woman 
making a deep courtesy, and the man bowing, 
without, however, taking off his broad-brimmed 
hat. 

“ I suppose thee to be the king, our good sov- 
ereign,” said the peasant, fixing his fine lustrous 
eyes on the king’s countenance. 

“ I am the king,” said Frederick William, kindly. 

“ And I see by thy beautiful face,” exclaimed 
the woman, pointing with her hand at Louisa, 
“ thee is the queen, the dear mother of our coun- 
try — Louisa, whom all love — for whom we are al- 
ways praying, and whom we are teaching our 
children to love and pray for.” 

“I thank you, kind folks,” exclaimed the queen, 
feelingly, “ I thank you. Yes, pray for me, and 
above all, pray for Prussia ; pray that she may be 
saved and protected, for when Prussia is happy I 
am.” 

“ Prussia will be happy again, and the Lord will 
not forsake her ! ” exclaimed the woman. “ All 
of us hope for it, and we wandered hither to bring 
to our beloved king and queen the greetings of 
their faithful subjects in the lowlands of Culm, 
and to tell their majesties that we are praying day 
and night that God may drive the French' from the 
country, and render our king and queen again 
powerful. But with your leave we should like to 
give you a small proof of our regard in the pres- 
ents we have brought.” 

The king nodded his consent, while the queen 
smiled and said : “ What you give us with loving 
heai’ts we will accept with loving hearts.” 

“What I have brought is but little,” said the 
woman. “ But I have been told that our gracious 
queen likes to eat good fresh butter, and that the 
young princes and princesses are also fond of sand- 
wiches; now,” she added, removing the leaves 


« 

from the basket, “ this butter is clean and good ; 

I churned it myself in my dairy, and as the article 
is so very scarce at present, I thought it would be 
acceptable, and the gracious queen would not 
spurn my humble gift. Thee looks so kind- 
hearted and good, dear queen, and I am glad to 
see thee face to face, and shall be doubly so if 
thee will be so kind as to accept my butter.” 

“ I accept it joyfully,” exclaimed the queen, 
taking the basket which the woman presented to 
her. “I thank you for your nice present, my 
dear woman, and I myself will put some of it to- 
day on the sandwiches of my sons, who shall eat 
them in honor of good Mde. Nickel.” 

“ And no w I should like to beg leave to present 
a small gift to the king,” said the peasant. “ I — ” 

“ Ah, I guess what it is,” exclaimed the king, 
merrily. “You bring me a fine cheese to be eaten 
with the fresh butter.” 

“No, most gracious king. Thy loyal Mennon- 
ite subjects in the province of Prussia have learn- 
ed with the most profound grief how great the 
distress is which God has inflicted upon thee, thy 
house, and thy states. We have learned that the 
funds of thy military chest are entirely exhausted — 
that the French have put them into their pockets. 
All this affected us most painfully, and we thought 
thee might sometimes even be out of pocket- 
money. All the men, women, and children of our 
community, therefore, looked into their saving- 
boxes, and contributed joyfully the mite that 
is to manifest the love we entertain for our king. 
And here is the money we have collected, good 
king, and I would urgently entreat thee in the 
name of our community graciously to accept the 
trifle offered thee by thy faithful Mennonite sub- 
jects, who will never cease to love and pray for 
thee.” 

“No,” exclaimed the king, in a tremulous voice, 
his face quivering with profound emotion, “ no, I 
am not poor so long as I have still subjects so 
good and loyal as you are ! ” And he offered his 
hand with a grateful look. 

The queen had listened to these words with in- ^ 
creasing emotion; her beautiful countenance was 
beaming with joy ; her eyes were lifted to heaven, 
and her lips seemed to whisper a prayer of grati- 
tude. When the king cordially shook hands with 
the Mennonite, the queen, overcome by her feel- 
ings, burst into tears — ^tears such as she had not 
shed for a long while. She took the costly Turk- 
ish shawl from her shoulders and threw it around 
the surprised woman. 

“ Keep it in memory of this interview,” whis- 
pered the qufeen, in a voice choked by tears. 

“ Thee permits me, kind king, to give thee our 


A FAMILY DINNER. 


167 


little savings, and to place them on this table ? ” 
asked Abraham Nickel. 

“ I do,” said the king. The peasant stepped to 
the table. After deliberately untying the string 
of the gray linen bag, he turned it upside down, 
and poured out the contents. The queen uttered 
an exclamation of surprise, and the king him- 
self was unable to suppress his astonishment; 
for gold-piece after gold-piece rolled from the bag 
and fell ringing in a bright pile on the table. 
“ Well, indeed,” said the king, “ my people of the 
Vistula have good things in their saving-boxes.” 

“ There are three thousand louis-d’or, dear 
king,” said Abraham Nickel. “Unfortunately, 
this is all, although we ardently desired to make 
you a better present.” 

“ Three thousand louis-d’or are too much,” re- 
plied the king, “ and I cannot accept the sum as 
a mere gift. Accept my thanks, and rest assured 
that I shall ever gratefully remember your kind- 
ness. I will, however, accept it as a present now, 
but at a later day, when times are more prosperous, 
it must be considered as a loan, which I shall re- 
pay with interest. Accept a receipt, my friend, 
and tell the elders of your community to preserve 
it carefully, that I may redeem it.” * 


♦ The king did not forget his promise. In 1816, when 


“The king’s will be done,” said Nickel. “If 
times remain as they are now, thy receipt, dear 
king, shall be preserved in our community as a 
sacred token of thy love. But when affairs are 
better, then thee may do as thee pleases, and we 
will gladly permit our king to fill again the saving- 
boxes of his people.” 

“ There will be better times for Prussia,” said 
the king, solemnly, “ for I hope in God and in my 
countrymen. I hope that we shall have strength 
to outlive these evil days, and to be worthy of the 
prosperity to come. Prussia is not lost ; she can- 
not be, for her people and her king are united in 
love and fealty, and that is the source of heroic 
deeds. God save Prussia ! ” 

“God save Prussia!” exclaimed the queen, 
raising her tearful eyes and clasped hands. 

“God save Prussia!” whispered the peasant 
and his wife, bowing their heads in silent prayer. 

the fatherland had been delivered, he requested the au- 
thorities of Mariemverder to give him information about 
Abraham Mckel. It was ascertained that the poor man, 
owing to the calamities of war, had lost his whole prop- 
erty, his buildings having been burned down by the 
enemy. The king had them rebuilt in a much better 
style than before, gave him ample means to start again, 
and redeemed the due-bill he had given to the Mennon- 
ites. — Vide Hippel’s work on Frederick William III, 
vol. iii., p. 291. 


BOOK Y 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

FRENCH ERFURT. 

Erfurt had undergone a great transformation 
in the course of a single week. The quiet Ger- 
man fortress, and the gloomy streets and deserted 
public places, had become a gay capital. There 
were constantly seen crowds of French footmen 
in rich liveries, high-born gentlemen with their 
stars on their breasts, and gaping idlers looking 
wonderingly at the change. But what fever- 
ish activity and toil had been require^ to effect 
this ! Paris — nay, all France, had to contribute 
their treasures. Long lines of wagons had con- 
veyed to Erfurt costly furniture, covered with 
velvet an'd gilt ornaments, from the imperial 
garde-meuhles of Paris, magnificent porcelain from 
Sevres, precious gobelins and silks from Lyons 
and Kouen, rare wines from Bordeaux, tropic 
fruits from Marseilles, and trufiQes from Perigord. 
Not only the castle, but also the prominent pri- 
vate residences, had been decorated in the most 
sumptuous style. An army of cooks and kitchen- 
boys had garrisoned the basements and kitchens 
filled with the delicacies brought from the princi- 
pal cities of Europe. 

France had adorned Erfurt as a bride ready to 
receive her lord, and the German princes had 
come as bridesmen. Nearly every German state 
had sent its sovereign or crown prince. There 
were the Kings of Saxony, Wurtemberg, Bavaria, 
and Westphalia ; the Dukes of Hesse-Darmstadt, 
Baden, Weimar, Gotha, Oldenburg, Schwerin, and 
Strelitz, and more than twenty of the petty sov- 
ereigns in which Germany abounded. For the 
first time all seemed to be united, and to have 
one purpose. This was, to do homage to the 
Emperor Napoleon. 

He intended to come to Erfurt to meet again 
the friend he had gained at Tilsit, the Emperor 


Alexander. Nearly eighteen months had passed 
since the first meeting of the two monarchs. 
Since that time the morning sky of their friend- 
ship had been overcast. The meeting at Erfurt 
was to renew their former relations. Both em- 
perors felt that they could not do without each 
other, and they sought this meeting with equal 
eagerness. Alexander desired to continue his 
war against Sweden for the possession of Finland. 
Napoleon had not yet been able to bring the great 
struggle in Spain to a successful end, and had, 
therefore, to remain at peace with the only sover- 
eign whose power and enmity he had still to fear. 
Besides, the two emperors loved each other ; they 
had exchanged at Tilsit ardent vows. The world 
was aware of this, and could not but regard it as 
a matter of course that the imperial friends longed 
to meet again. The auspicious period was fixed 
for the 27^1 of September, 1808. The appointed 
hour had struck ; the cannon and the pealing 
of bells announced the advent of Napoleon. — 
All the thoroughfares and public places were 
crowded. The people were hastening with wild 
impetuosity to the streets through which he was 
to pass ; the members of the municipality, dressed 
in their official robes, proceeded to the gate 
where they were to welcome him ; the windows of 
all the houses were open ; and there appeared 
beautiful women, adorned with flowers and gems, 
awaiting his approach. The imperial guard 
formed in line to the soul-stirring notes of their 
band, and the Kings of Saxony and Wurtemberg, 
and the whole host of German princes, had 
assembled in the large hall of the government 
palace to salute the emperor. 

A noise as of distant thunder seemed to shake 
the air ; it drew nearer and nearer. It was the 
cheering of the people and the soldiers, for the em- 
peror had now entered the city. The procession 
moved on, greeted by the bright eyes of the ladies, 
and the shouts of the multitude. Napoleon, 


FRENCH ERFURT. 


169 


wearily leaning back in the open barouche, drawn 
by'six richly-caparisoned horses, thanked the peo- 
ple with an indifferent wave of his hand, and 
saluted the ladies with a scarcely perceptible nod. 
His countenance was immovable, and the public 
excitement was unable to betray him into the 
faintest sign of gratification. The noisy welcome 
seemed as stale to him as some old song which 
he had heard too often. As his carriage made 
but slow headway through the surging mass, the 
emperor started with a movement of impatience. 
“ Forward ! ” he shouted in a loud voice, and the 
adjutants, riding on both sides, repeated to the 
outriders, “Forward! forward!” The carriage 
rolled on at a full gallop, regardless of the popu- 
lace, followed by a cavalcade of marshals and 
generals, and the coaches of Champagny, Maret, 
and Talleyrand. Having arrived in front of the 
palace, the emperor quickly entered. At the 
landing of the staircase he was received by the 
German princes, headed by the King of Saxony. 
Napoleon embraced the old gentleman with an 
expression of genuine tenderness. ' “ Sire,” said 
the king, “ you see you have made my heart 
young again — you -have restored the elasticity of 
youth to my old body. I hastened hither with 
courier-horses in order to greet you first, and in 
the impatience of my heart I have been at the 
window for several hours to have the happiness 
of seeing your majesty.” 

“ Oh,” exclaimed Napoleon, bending a sinister 
glance on the other princes, “ I would my love 
could succeed in rendering you as young as your 
heart ; it would greatly promote the welfare of 
Germany. You would regenerate the ancient 
German empire, and transform it into a real and 
lasting union.” He cordially shook hands with 
the king, saluted the other foreigners with an im- 
patient nod, and walked to his rooms, where his 
valets de chambre were awaiting him; 

Half an hour afterward Minister Champagny 
was called into the emperor’s cabinet. When the 
minister entered, Napoleon was pacing the room ; 
his hands folded, as usual, behind him. A map, 
covered with colored pins, and on which he cast a 
long, dark look, lay on the table. Champagny re- 
mained in respectful silence at the door, Avaiting 
the moment when it would please the emperor to 
notice his presence. At length Napoleon stood 
facing him. “Champagny,” he asked, “do you 
know why we are here, and what is the object of 
this meeting ? ” 

“ Your majesty has not done me the honor of 
making a confidant of me,” said the minister, re- 
spectfully ; “hence, I do not know, but merely 
venture to surmise, what may be the object.” 


“And what do you surmise ? ” 

“ I suppose that your majesty intends to give 
a fresh impetus to the friendship of the Emperor 
Alexander, and to conclude a firm alliance with 
him in order to be sure of him, and to be able to 
carry on the war in Spain without hinderance, and, 
if need be, if — ” 

“ Well, why do you hesitate ? ” said Napoleon, 
impatiently. 

“ If need be,” added Champagny, “ to declare 
war against Austria.” 

“ Then you really believe in the possibility of 
such a war ? ” he said. “ Yes, you are right ; we 
must not suffer ourselves to be deceived by ap- 
parent humility and equivocal friends ; they have a 
smile on their lips, but at heart they are as hostile 
as ever, and while with their right hand they greet 
us, they are arming with their left. But woe to 
those scoundrels if I catch them at their tricks ! 
I will so punish them as to shatter their thrones 
and crush their power. Those men who style 
themselves ‘ princes by the grace of God’ have nev- 
er learned any thing and never will. They close 
their ears with arrogance against the events that 
unerringly speak to them, and they are still lulled 
to sleep by the nursery-song of ‘ unapproachable 
majesty.’ But I will arouse them by my cannon, 
and my armies shall sing them a song of the new 
majesty that Heaven has sent into the world. It 
has overtoppled the thrones of Naples and Spain ; 
so it will that of Austria, if such be my desire ! 
Austria must not persist in her insolence, and dare 
to menace me ! ” 

Frowning, he commenced again rapidly walking 
the apartment. “ Champagny,” he said, stopping 
in the middle of the room, “ come here close to 
me, that even the walls will not hear what I tell 
you. You shall leam the object of our journey 
to Erfurt, and I will inform you what you are to 
do. I have hitherto treated you in the same man- 
ner as the admirals to whom I give dispatches to 
be opened only on the high seas. You have now 
reached them, Champagny, and shall, therefore, 
learn your orders. I have taken you with me be- 
cause you are to assist in accomplishing an im- 
portant object. I have selected you, and you 
alone, for I know that I may confide in your dis- 
cretion, and that you will not betray any secret 
intrusted to you. Not a word of what you hear 
now must ever pass your lips— -not a hint even 
to Talleyrand. Talleyrand is a sneak and a 
traitor, who would like to be on good terms with 
all parties, so as to be sure of their support 
whatever may happen. Oh, I knoAv him ; I have 
fathomed him, and can read the thoughts which 
he takes the greatest pains to conceal. I know 


170 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


that I ought to distrust him — ^thathe is intriguing 
■with Austria ; and that, if I suffered him to share 
in our scheme, he wotild betray the secrets of my 
cabinet to the Austrian ambassador. I profit 
by his services whenever he is useful by his in- 
trigue and diplomatic jugglery ; but, I repeat it, I 
do not trust him.” 

“ Sire, I swear that I should deem myself dis- 
honored if my lips ever betray a syllable of the 
secret projects of my emperor ! ” exclaimed the 
minister, solemnly. 

“Well, well, I trust you,” said Napoleon, nod- 
ding to him. “ Now, listen ! ” He took the min- 
ister by one of the golden buttons of his velvet 
coat and drew him closer to his side. “ I have 
brought about this meeting because I desire to 
dupe the Emperor Alexander.” 

Champagny started and looked surprised. Na- 
poledn smiled. “ I shall accomplish my purpose 
BO far as Alexander himself is concerned,” he 
said ; “ but you must do the same with regard to 
the Russian minister, hard-headed old Romanzoff. 
And let me tell you why. You know what I 
promised Alexander at Tilsit, and by what means 
I succeeded in winning his heart. He is an ideal- 
ist ; the plans of his grandmother Catharine are 
constantly haunting him, and his thoughts are fixed 
on Turkey — particularly on Constantinople. He 
is ambitious, fickle, and visionary. I promised to 
realize his visions, and thereby gained his confi- 
dence. I promised when the time came, not only 
not to oppose his plans against Turkey, but to 
support them to the best of my power. In con- 
sideration of this promise, he approved my ideas 
with regard to Spain, and solemnly pledged me 
his word that he would raise no objection if I 
hurl the Bourbons from the Spanish throne, and 
place one of my brothers on it. He has kept his 
word, for, although the crown is still uneasy on 
the head of my brother Joseph, yet he is a king, 
and Alexander will believe that it is time for me 
to keep my word. His envoys, and his confi- 
dential minister, old Romanzoff, have already 
urged the demands of their master. Joseph hav- 
ing made his entry into Madrid, Alexander desires 
to enter Constantinople. His impatience has risen 
to the highest point, and to calm and conciliate 
him, I consented to his desire for a meeting. He 
will renew his demands concerning Constantinople, 
and I shall once more promise.” 

“ Will your majesty promise him Constantino- 
ple? ” asked Champagny. 

“ Yes,” said Napoleon, smiling, “ promise ! But 
I do not intend to perform. Never will I consent 
to give Constantinople to the Emperor of Russia, 
for I would thereby surrender the key of a univer- 


sal monarchy into his hands — he would be at once 
master of Europe and Asia. He often instructed 
Caulaincourt to assure me he did not want the 
whole of Turkey ; he did not claim any territory 
south of the Balkan, nor any part of Roumelia — 
not even Adrianople — only Constantinople with 
its neighborhood. He calls it the ‘ Cat’s Tongue,’ 
from its shape, and is more anxious to obtain it 
than the ancient Romans ever were to indulge in 
the delicacy of the tongues of nightingales. But 
if Russia possessed this cat’s tongue, it would be 
transformed into a wolf’s, armed with formidable 
teeth against aU commerce and national inter- 
course. Never shall I permit Russia to annex 
Constantinople, for that would be destroying the 
equilibrium of Europe.” 

“ But, sire, you yourself said just now that the 
Emperor Alexander was most anxious to seize 
that city, and that the object of his journey to 
Erfurt was principally to obtain the consent of 
your majesty to its conquest.” 

“ And I told you also that my object was to 
dupe and intoxicate him gradually by delusive 
friendship and promises, by festivities and false 
homage, until it is indifferent to him whether, as 
a compensation for the acquisition of Spain by 
my brother, I give him Constantinople and the 
Balkan, or something else, provided it is palatable. 
He has an awful appetite for territory, and it is 
important to satisfy it in one way or another. It 
is easy to persuade a hungry man that a very com- 
mon dish is good roast meat. It is our business, 
therefore, to suggest to the emperor and his min- 
ister another conquest instead of Constantinople, 
and so to dress up the idea that they may relish 
it, and ask for nothing else.” 

“Ah, sire,” exclaimed Champagny, sighing, 
“ it will be easy for your majesty to fascinate the 
emperor. But my efforts with his old minister 
Romanzoff are likely to be utterly unavailing. I 
am not well versed in that art of which you are a 
master, and he is too old and shrewd to be fasci- 
nated by any one. He is not easily deluded, and 
his eyes are steadfastly fixed on Constantinople. 
It is his most fervent hope to be hailed in heaven 
by Peter the Great, after assisting Alexander in 
accomplishing the will of his illustrious an- 
cestor.” 

“ And yet we must succeed,” exclaimed Napo- 
leon, stamping on the floor. “ I tell you, Cham- 
pagny, I will and must succeed ! No objec- 
tions ! I told you that I have made up my mind, 
and nothing can shake my determination. You 
will commence by encouraging Romanzoff in his 
hopes, and throw out only, now and then, a vague 
hint that there are countries, the annexation of 


FRENCH ERFURT. 


171 


•which would be more important and advanta- 
geous to Russia. After having prepared his mind 
in this manner for our plan, you will gradually, 
and as soon as I have gained over the emperor, 
point out to him the conquest which Russia 
ought previously to make, and prove to him 
that Moldavia and Wallachia would be the very 
best territorial aggrandizement which he could 
desire.” 

“ Your majesty intends, then, to permit the 
Emperor of Russia to annex Moldavia and Wal- 
lachia ? ” asked the minister. 

“ Yes. I must satisfy him with some compen- 
sation for Constantinople. And, it seems to me, 
the fertile provinces of the Danube, if I grant them 
to him immediately and unreservedly, are an ac- 
quisition which ought to content any ambition. 
I cannot do without the friendship of Alexander 
at this moment. Spain is in a state of insurrec- 
tion, and, owing to Joseph’s timidity, will not 
be soon reduced to submission. Austria is try- 
ing to get up a quarrel with us ; she is secretly 
and perfidiously preparing for an attack, and is 
only w'aiting for fresh defeats of my army in 
Spain to declare war against me. Prussia, it is 
true, is not able to injure me, for I am keeping her 
under my heel ; but if I were compelled to with- 
draw my foot for an instant, she wmuld slip away 
and unite with my enemies. Nor do I trust my 
other allies in Germany. They are faithful and de- 
voted only so long as they are afraid of me ; they 
would forsake me as soon as they see my position 
endangered. They submitted reluctantly to my 
orders to furnish me with auxiliaries for my army 
in Spain. If I were to insist on another levy, all 
these petty princes of the Confederation of the 
Rhine would flatly refuse, provided there •was a 
prospect of their succeeding in their opposition. 
I must keep them down by the terror with which 
I inspire them. I must prove to all those revolu- 
tionary elements fermenting in Germany — to in- 
surgents, from the throne to the cottage — to all 
those miserable conspirators and demagogues — 
that I stand as firm as a rock, from which their 
fury will recoil. United with Russia, I will make 
all Europe tremble. The echoes of the festivities 
of Erfurt shall penetrate everywhere, from Lon- 
don to Constantinople ; the whole w'orld looks 
upon us and sees the Emperors of Russia and 
France side by side. Amid these enchantments I 
believe I shall succeed in persuading my friend 
Alexander to accept temporarily Moldavia and 
Wallachia as a sufficient indemnity for Constanti- 
nople. You know your duty now, Champagny; 
lay your mines skilfully, and you will succeed in 
blowing up the old granite fortress of Romanzoff.” 


“ Sire, I assure you I will assist you to the best 
of my ability,” said the minister. “Your ma- 
jesty, however, will permit me to ask a question. 
The promise of the annexation of Moldavia and 
Wallachia is not to be a mere sham, and your 
majesty will really permit Russia to seize these 
two provinces ? ” 

Napoleon smiled, and, violently pulling the min- 
ister’s ear in his usual jocular way, said, “What 
a rash and indiscreet question ! Of course, we 
shall promise the annexation. When it is to be 
fulfilled we must delay it as long as possible, and 
the rest will depend on events. In order that I 
may know exactly how far you have progressed 
with Romanzoff, you will write down your con- 
versations with him every day, and also your 
plans, hopes, and fears ; I desire to have every 
night a letter from you on the table at my bed- 
side. Adieu ! ” He nodded pleasantly, and while 
Champagny withdrew, the emperor called in a 
loud voice for Constant, his valet de cTiamhre. 

“ Did you send for Talma ? ” he asked Constant. 

“ Sire, Talma is waiting for your majesty’s or- 
ders in the anteroom.” 

“ Very well, let him come in. Have the horses 
brought to the door. All the marshals and my 
•whole suite must be ready. We set out immedi- 
ately to meet the Emperor Alexander, but I will 
previously put on my decoration of St. Andrew’s 
order ; then my toilet will be complete. — Talma ! ” 

Constant hastened into the anteroom to inform 
Talma that the emperor wished to see him, and a 
moment afterward the great actor made his appear- 
ance. “ Ah, you have arrived, then. Talma,” ex- 
claimed Napoleon, gayly, “ and I hope you have 
brouglit with you the most select company of ac- 
tors, the finest costumes, and the best pieces ? ” 

“ I have brought hither, sire, the actors and 
the theatre of the conqueror of the world,” said 
Talma, “ and that says every thing. The eyes of 
your majesty will be on us ; that is all that is 
needed to inspire us.” 

“But you will also play before an audience 
such as perhaps will never again assemble,” said 
Napoleon, smiling. “You will have a pit oc- 
cupied by kings and sovereign princes.” 

“ Sire,” said Talma, bowing deej)ly, “ where 
your majesty is, there is but one king and 
master.” 

“ No ; there is another king, and his name iS 
Talma,” exclaimed Napoleon, smiling. “These 
German princes may take a lesson from Talma as 
to the manner in which a king should bear him 
self in prosperity as '^\"ell as in adversity. You 
will, therefore, perform (Edipus, Cinna, Moham- 
med, and Andromache, that kings may see how 


1'72 


Js^APOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


true monarchs ought to behave. I could have 
wished, however, that you had prepared not only 
the tragedies of Racine, Corneille, and Voltaire, 
but also some of the comedies of Moli^re. You 
know how highly I esteem them. But the Ger- 
mans would not understand them. We must 
show them the beauty and sublimity of our 
tragic theatre; they will appreciate it better 
than the profound wit of Moliere. Make it indis- 
pensable for the actors, and very particularly 
the actresses, to speak as distinctly and loudly 
as possible, that the Emperor Alexander, who is 
somewhat hard of hearing, may understand. You 
are the representatives of the honor of French 
literature ; just say so to the artists in my name, 
and order the ladies especially to refrain from their 
wonted ogling and coquetry. Handsome Mademoi- 
selle Bourgoin likes also to make conquests, not 
only on the stage, but among the spectators ; and, 
while she is playing tragic amoureuses^ she casts 
on the audience glances that are more suitable to 
a beauty of the Palais Royal than to a heroine, 
and which contrast strangely with the chaste 
characters she represents. Tell her that 1 desire 
her to abstain from such follies ; she must not des- 
ecrate the buskin by the mhiauderies of a sou- 
hrette* For the rest, I rely entirely on youj 
Talma. The eyes of Europe are fixed on Erfurt 
at this moment, and your immortality is sure.” 

“ Sire, it was so on the day when, after the repre- 
sentation of Cinna, your majesty told me that you 
, were satisfied with me.” 

“And perform Cinna tonight. I enjoy the 
pleasure already in anticipation. I ask another 
question. Did you bring the parts for Y oltaire’s 
‘ Death of Caesar ? ’ ” 

“For the ‘ Death of Caesar ? ’ ” asked Talma, in 
surprise. “Your majesty — ” 

“Ah, you want to tell me that the piece is pro- 
hibited in Paris,” exclaimed Napoleon, smiling. 
“But Paris is a Vesuvius — what is inflammatory 
in France is perfectly harmless in phlegmatic 
Germany. Let the actors prepare for performing 
the ‘ Death of Caesar ; ’ I will order it to be played 
in a few days. Tell them so. — Well, Constant, 
what is the matter ? ” 

“ Sire, your majesty desired to put on the large 
Russian decoration.” 

“ Ah, it is true,” said Napoleon ; “ come, put it 
on.” And while Constant put the broad cordon 
with the diamond star over the emperor’s shoul- 
ders, and arranged it on his breast, Napoleon 

* Alexander fell in love with this actress at Erfurt. 
Napoleon tried to prevent Mademoiselle Bourgoin from 
continuing this liaison, hut the actress was bold enough 
to defy the wrath of the emperor. 


turned once more to Talma. “ You see,” he said, 
“ we monarchs pursue the same course you do. 
We put on different costumes according to the 
part we play. I wore a fez in Egypt, and to-day 
I put on the imperial star of Russia.” 

“ But, sire, everywhere you play your part with 
masterly skill, and the world, which is your audi- 
ence, applauds your majesty,” exclaimed Talma. 

“ Oh, it would not be safe to hiss me,” said Na- 
poleon, putting on his gloves, and taking the riding- 
whip which Constant handed to him. 

Accompanied by a brilliant suite, the emperor 
left Erfurt, and took the road to Weipaar, whence 
the Emperor Alexander was to come. French 
troops lined the way, and behind them was avast 
and motley crowd of peasants, who had come 
from all parts to witness the cavalcade. Napoleon 
did not hear the enthusiastic shouts of the soldiers, 
but he noticed the silence of the people, who 
stared at him with the curiosity with which they 
would have stared at any other unusual spectacle. 
He bent his head and rode on, absorbed in reflec- 
tion ; the bridle hung loose in his hand, but his 
white charger was accustomed to this careless- 
ness, and galloped forward, proud of his melan- 
choly rider. 

Duroc rode up. “ Sire,” he said, “ I believe 
that is the Emperor Alexander.” 

Napoleon quickly raised his head, and turned 
his keen eyes in the direction the grand marshal 
had pointed out. An open barouche, in which a 
single person sat, was approaching, accompanied 
by a few horsemen. Napoleon waited. The car- 
riage drew nearer, and the person seated in it was 
recognized by his uniform and the grand cordon 
of the Legion of Honor. 

“ It is he — the Emperor Alexander ! ” exclaimed 
Napoleon, and rode forward at a gallop, followed 
by his marshals and generals. The carriage of 
the Russian emperor also moved more rapidly, 
and when both were near each other they sud- 
denly halted. Napoleon dismounted ; and Alex- 
ander, not waiting for the carriage door to be 
opened, jumped over it. The two monarchs 
rushed toward each other with open arms, and the 
soldiers made the welkin ring with “ Long live Na- 
poleon ! Long live Alexander ! ” 

Napoleon, disengaging himself from the arms of 
his friend, saluted the Grand-duke Constantine. 
A horse was brought to the Emperor Alexander, 
and as he was about to mount he looked in sur- 
prise at the splendid animal, as well as at its 
equipment. “ Why,” he said, “ this looks exactly 
as though I were going to take a ride on my favor- 
ite charger in St. Petersburg. It is precisely of 
similar color and trappings.” 


THE CONSPIRATORS. 


173 


“ That proves that the drawings which Caulain- 
court sent me were pretty correct,” said Napoleon, 
smiling. 

“ Ah, then it is another attention of yours,” ex- 
claimed Alexander, affectionately pressing the 
hand of his friend. “ Your majesty is bent on in- 
fatuating me. I feel perfectly at home on this 
horse.” 

“ Ah, that is exactly what I wished,” said Na- 
poleon ; “ I sincerely desired that your majesty 
should feel at home while with me. Well, if it 
please you, let us ride to Erfurt.” 

“ V ery well,” said Alexander, vaulting gracefully 
into the saddle, and offering his hand to Napoleon, 
on whose right he was riding. The emperors, chat- 
ting gayly, rode on to Erfurt. Behind them was 
the Grand-duke Constantine, between King Je- 
rome of Westphalia, and Murat, Grand-duke of 
Berg. Then followed the suite of the marshals 
and generals, and the procession was closed by 
the carriage of old Romanzoff, Alexander’s minis- 
ter of state. Enthusiastic cheers resounded along 
the whole road, and now Napoleon, with a serene 
bow, saluted the multitude. Amid the. peals of 
bells, the booming of cannon, and the cheers of 
the soldiers and the populace, the two emperors 
made their entry, halting in front of the hotel. 
Napoleon alighted first to welcome his guest, and 
conduct him to the rooms prepared for his recep- 
tion. 

Late on the same day Napoleon received a letter 
from his Minister Champagny. It contained only 
the following words : “ Sire, I have held the first 
conference with Romanzoff. It will be very diffi- 
cult to persuade this stubborn man that a piece 
of meat on the Danube is as good as the cat’s 
tongue, for which the old gentleman is as clamor- 
ous as a hungry child for its dinner.” 

Napoleon took a pen and affixed the follow- 
ing words : “ I have also held the first confer- 
ence with the Emperor Alexander. There will be 
no change in my plans. Moldavia and Wallachia 
as an indemnity for the ‘ cat’s tongue ! ’ We must 
succeed ! ” He then folded and sealed the letter, 
which he immediately sent back to his minister. 


CHAPTER XL. 

THE CONSPIRATORS. 

While the illumination, with which the good 
people of the French city had celebrated the ar- 
rival of the two emperors, was in full blaze on the 
principal thoroughfares, only a single dim light 


was to be seen in a small building situated on the 
corner of one of the more quiet streets. The 
other windows of this house were dark, and all 
was silent as though no living beings were dwell- 
ing in it. From time to time, a closely-veiled man 
appeared in the neighborhood, and, after glancing 
at the light in the upper window, uttered a strange 
cry. A second light was soon moving to and fro, 
and disappearing again. The man approached and 
knocked repeatedly at the door, which opened and 
admitted him. Twelve men had entered. The 
light was extinguished ; the door bolted on the in- 
side, and profound silence reigned in the building. 

The French police had devoted their whole at- 
tention to the principal streets of the city, and to 
the vast crowds that followed the emperors, who," 
accompanied by kings and princes, proceeded to 
admire the illumination. There were no eyes for 
this small, dark house in an obscure alley — ^no 
ears to listen to what was going on within. The 
twelve men who had entered in so mysterious a 
manner, had assembled in a large back room. 
They had whispered the password into the ear 
of the door-keeper, and were at once admitted. 

The windows of this room were covered with 
heavy black curtains, which prevented sound, as 
well as light, from penetrating to the outside. 
Thirteen candlesticks were fixed at equal distances 
in the plain white walls. The man who had en- 
tered first approached the first candlestick and 
lighted the two tapers. He who came next did 
the same with the next candlestick, and the oth- 
ers followed their example. At this moment the 
tapers on twelve candlesticks were burning ; and 
only the thirteenth, which contained six tapers, 
had not yet been lighted. Around the long table 
standing in the middle of the room, twelve grave 
and silent men were sitting on cane-chairs, the high 
backs of which were carved in a peculiar, old-fash- 
ioned style ; these men were closely wrapped in 
black cloaks, the capes of which concealed their 
heads, and their faces were covered with black half- 
masks, which they had put on immediately after 
entering the house. At the upper end of the 
table stood a black easy-chair, which was alone 
unoccupied. The flashing eyes peering from the 
capes were directed to this chair ; no word was 
spoken ; a breath was almost audible in the mo- 
tionless assembly. Suddenly a narrow, secret 
door opened in the opposite wall, and a tall man, 
dressed and veiled like the others, made his ap- 
pearance. 

The assembly remained as before, and seemed 
to take no notice of the new-comer. The latter 
quickly walked to the thirteenth candlestick, and 
lighted its tapers. The others immediately rose 


1V4 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


from their seats and bowed deeply. “ The presi- 
pent ! ” they murmured. “ We greet him who 
has called us — we greet the president!” He 
nodded, and then went to the upper end of the 
table. Before sitting down, he opened a little 
the black cloak enveloping his whole form, and 
the others beheld a heavy silver chain adorning 
his breast, and to which was fastened a locket, 
decorated with diamonds. In the middle of it a 
skull was to be seen, and under it the inscription 
of “ Liberty or Death ! ” As soon as the rest be- 
held this, they also opened their cloaks. Each of 
them wore a similar chain, locket, and inscription. 

“ Resume your seats, brethren,” said the presi- 
dent, “ sitting down in the easy-chair. He then 
said in a loud, solemn voice, “ The hour has come 
for us to act. Germany has sailed us, and, as 
obedient sons, we come ! Germany, our beloved 
mother, is here in our midst, although we do not 
see her. She stands with veiled head and tearful 
eyes before her children, and asks us to give her 
an account of what we have done and accom- 
plished. Brethren, are we ready ? ” 

“ We are !” all exclaimed, simultaneously. 

“ When we parted three months ago, my breth- 
ren,” added the president, “ we resolved to meet 
here to-day. I see that all have remained faith- 
ful to their oath. Not one is absent. No taper 
is unlit — the seats are occupied. Germania, that 
knows who are hers, and how to call them by 
their names, although they veil their heads, — 
Germania thanks you for your fidelity. She 
awaits our report. Let us speak ! He who 
arrived first will commence.” 

One at the lower end of the table roso and 
bowed respectfully. “ I arrived first,” he said. 

“ You have the floor, then, my brother,” said 
the president. “ Make your report. Where have 
you been ? What connections did you establish ? 
What hopes do you bring ? ” 

“ I was in Northern Germany,” he replied ; 
“ for that w^as the order which I drew from the 
urn when we met here three* months ago. In the 
envelope which I reeeived, I found a paper con- 
taining the words : ‘ Ferdinand von Schill at Kol- 
berg.’ The first lines of a song were affixed to 
this address. I repaired immediately to Kolberg, 
and found Major von Schill engaged in equipping 
and drilling the second regiment of Brandenburg 
hussars, of which the king has appointed him 
commander. The regiment consists of the four 
brave companies of cavalry with which Lieuten- 
ant von Schill undertook his bold and successful 
raids.” 

“ And did you deliver your credentials to the 
major, my brother ? ” 


“ I did. He received me with a joyful saluta- 
tion, and sends his greeting and fraternal kiss to 
the ‘ patriots.’ He said to me : ‘ We pursue with 
zeal and courage the purpose which we have sworn 
to accomplish. Go to the brethren — tell them 
that they may count on me and my men, and on 
the people, who are gradually being inspired with 
the true spirit, and who will rise when the alarm 
is sounded. When the time comes, the whole of 
Germany will rise to a man, break her chains, 
and expel the tyrant. Let us prepare for this 
hour, in the North and South, in the East and 
West, that the whole country may be armed at 
the first battle-cry of freedom ! Let us work and 
toil, keeping each other well informed of our 
progress. We must all act on one and the same 
day ! ’ ” 

“ Did you hear the words and greetings of 
brave Schill, brethren ? ” asked the president. 

“ We heard, an«s engraved them on our heart.” 

“ It is now the turn of the brother who ar- 
rived next,” said the president. “ Make your re- 
port.” 

“ Soul-stirring hopes 1 and I wish you joy of 
our prospects,” said he who had now risen. “ At 
our last meeting I drew from the urn the order to 
go to Berlin and Kbnigsberg. I was there ! Oh, 
brethren, the days of freedom are near ! In Ber- 
lin, I was introduced by one of our friends to a 
circle of patriots, who, like us, have formed a 
secret society for the purpose of promoting the 
welfare of the fatherland, and of ushering in the 
day of freedom. Those patriots are in communi- 
cation with men sharing their sentiments through- 
out the whole of Northern Germany ; committees 
are organized everywhere to instruct the people, 
to disseminate patriotic views, and to gain ad- 
herents to the great league of the defenders of the 
fatherland. Secret depots of arms are being es- 
tablished in every city. The central committee, 
sitting in Berlin, have taken upon themselves the 
task of watching the French troops, their num- 
bers, location, and strength ; of ascertaining the 
disposition of the people in the provinces, and of 
transmitting the results of their observations to 
the branches of their league, as well as to the 
other patriotic societies. Henceforth we shaU 
also receive those reports, if one of our brethren 
will call for them in Berlin. 

“ Thence, well provided with recommendations 
by the committee, I repaired to Kdnigsberg. 
From what I saw there I derived much conso- 
lation and hope for the future of the country. 
The spirit of freedom is fermenting, and high- 
minded men have erected at Konigsberg an altar 
on which they intend to kindle the sacred fire. 


THE CONSPIRATORS. 


115 


that it may melt our chains. The name of this 
altar is the ‘ Tugendbund.’ * Noble and illustrious 
men are at the head of this league ; a prince is 
its president ; Stein, the great minister, is its pro- 
tector ; brave General Bliicher, Gneisenau, the dis- 
tinguished officer — in short, the most eminent and 
popular men of Prussia are members. King Fred- 
erick William has approved its by-laws ; Queen 
Louisa is enthusiastically in favor of its patriotic 
efforts. It does not intend to enter upon a vio- 
lent struggle, but will prepare the people by its 
words and example for better days. It intends 
to increase the moral energy of the nation, that it 
may also rise in its physical strength, and be able 
to cope with the invaders. This league, my 
brethren, purposes to propagate patriotism, cour- 
age, attachment to the sovereign and the consti- 
tution, love of virtue, art, science, and literature. 
It intends to cultivate the minds and hearts of 
the people, that they may shrink from no sacrifice 
for the welfare of the country. My brethren, the 
‘ Tugendbund ’ is the head and heart of us all ; we 
shall one day be its arm and sword, and translate 
its teachings into heroic deeds. It sends its greet- 
ings to the brethren, admonishing us never to 
cease working and toiling, and to maintain a close 
connection with it, as well as with all our friends, 
until the great day of deliverance dawns upon us. 
But I do not bring greetings from that league 
alone. I have seen also the ‘Knights of Louisa,’ f 
and received their fraternal kiss. Brave Major 
von Nostitz, formerly an intimate friend and adju- 
tant of Prince Louis Ferdinand, is their president, 
and the noble queen has permitted them the use 
of her name as a token of her sympathy. As a 
further expression of her approval, she has pre- 
sented the president with a silver chain, and all 
the members of the order wear, as their regalia, a 
silver chain and a locket with the queen’s por- 
trait. The ‘ Tugendbund ’ and the ‘ Knights of 
Louisa ’ send greetings to the brethren, and will 
unite with them in struggling for the same holy 
cause. They await our messengers, and will in- 
form us of every thing that is done by them, as 
well as receive information from us concerning 
our own efforts.” 

“Your report is highly gratifying,” said the 
president, after a pause. “ Deliverance will soon 
come, and true Germans will be prepared for it. 
We will now listen to the third brother.” 

“I was in Westphalia, and bring cheering ti- 
dings to the patriotic brethren,” said the third 
brother. “ The chains are still clanking in un- 
fortunate Westphalia, but the men are as undaunt- 

* The celebrated “ League of Virtue.” 
t Die Louisenritter. 


ed as ever. Noble Chevalier von Dornberg sends 
his greeting. He admonishes us to toil, and to 
be prepared. We shall have ready our swords 
and our strong arms. Thousands of noble and 
faithful Hessians belong to his league. The hon- 
est minds of the people cannot see what right the 
Corsican emperor had to expel their legitimate 
ruler, and to place an Italian clown on his throne. 
Intense indignation at the foreign yoke is pre- 
vailing throughout Hessia and Westphalia, and 
every patriot rallies around Dornberg waiting for 
the signal to expel the oppressor. United with 
us, Dornberg sends his messengers and receives 
ours.” 

“ Let the fourth brother make his report,” said 
the president. 

“ I come from Bavaria, and bring greetings 
from the society of ‘ Concordists,’ founded by 
Chevalier von Lang. This society is straining 
every nerve to bring about the liberation of the 
country ; it is, like our league, preparing the peo- 
ple for their freedom. It is ready to enter into 
relationship with us.” 

“ And what brings the fifth of the brethren ? ” 

“ I bring fraternal kisses from the Rhine, 
where Jahn, the bold German, is organizing the 
legion of the ‘ Black Knights.’ I bring also gieiet- 
ings from the chivalrous Duke of Brunswick. 
The ‘ Corps of Vengeance,’ with skulls on their 
black helmets, are rallying around the prince, 
who, with fiery zeal, is preparing fbr the day 
when he will avenge the despair and death of 
his father. The ‘ Black Knights ’ and the ‘ Corps 
of Vengeance ’ send us greetings, and are ready 
to toil with us for the deliverance of our country, 
and the overthrow of the tyrant.” 

The president requested the sixth brother to 
take the floor, and he too stated that he had 
established connections with leagues having the 
same common object. The other six made sim- 
ilar statements. Everywhere in Germany they 
had found patriots, the same hatred of a foreign 
yoke, and the most ardent longing for freedom. 

When the twelfth brother had concluded his 
report, the president arose. “Brethren,” he said, 
encouragingly, “our night begins to brighten — 
the day is breaking. Let us, therefore, be vigi- 
lant, active, and undaunted. Gather around jou 
the circles of the faithful ; initiate and arm them ; 
teach them to be ready for the battle-cry, that 
they may rise and fight, all for one, and one for 
all. Set out again on your travels ; establish 
new societies, and join, in a genuine spirit of 
brotherly love, such as are already in operation. 
Work for the honor and liberty of Germany. 
Thousands already belong to us, and you will 


176 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


still enlist thousands more ; that, when the trum- 
pet sounds, the brethren may reenforce the army 
of German liberty, not with a battalion, but with 
legions of warriors. We have come hither to- 
day from all parts of Germany ; we know not 
each other’s names, nor have we ever seen each 
other’s faces ; yet no one has proved recreant. 
Go, then, again into the world, and pursue your 
sacred mission. Three months hence we will 
again meet at this house at the same hour, and 
confer as to what ought to be done. Bring the 
urn, and draw your duties for the next three 
months.” 

The man who had last arrived rose and walked 
to the opposite wall, at which the president 
pointed, as he said, “Press the golden button 
which you see fixed in the wall.” 

The conspirator obeyed, and immediately a small 
door opened, revealing a black urn, which he 
handed to the president, who said, “ Come hither, 
brethren, and draw your lots.” 

The twelve men rose successively and stepped 
to the urn, from which each drew a small folded 
paper, and, approaching the light, immediately 
learned his mission by opening the lot ; as soon 
as he had read its contents, he burned it, extin- 
guished his tapers, and withdrew, without word, 
glance, or gesture. Nine had already left. Only 
four candlesticks remained lighted — three of tlie 
conspirators, besides the president, were still in 
the room. Each of these three men stood near 
the burning tapers, and looked in grave silence at 
the open paper in his hand. 

“ Why are you here still, brethren ? ” asked the 
president. 

“ My order says that I am to remain here,” an- 
swered the man to whom the president addressed 
himself. 

“My order says the same,” exclaimed the sec- 
second brother. 

“ Mine is the same,” said the third. 

“ Come hither and listen to me, brethren,” com- 
manded the president. “ What is the motto of 
our league ? ” 

“ ‘ Liberty or death ! ’ ” exclaifned the three men, 
simultaneously. “Our fortunes, our lives, our 
blood, for Germany! If need be, death for the 
attainment of liberty, whether it be on the field of 
battle, in a dungeon, or on the scaffold I ” 

“ Or on the scaffold ! ” echoed the president. 
“ Do you remember, brethren, that, when we met 
for the first time, I told you Germany might stand 
in need of a Mutius Scaevola, and require him to 
assassinate Porsenna? Do you remember that 
we all swore, if the day should come to imitate 
that ancient patriot ? ” 


“We do.” « 

“That day has come,” said the president, 
solemnly. “ Germany requires a Mutius Scaevola, 
to kill Porsenna, and, if he should miss him, to 
suffer as stoically as the Koman youth. Enough 
German blood has been shed. Thousands of our 
brethren would still have to die, if we meet the 
tyrant in open combat. We must do this, if we 
cannot get rid of him in any other way. But be- 
fore resorting to it, before permitting Germany to 
be again devastated by revolution and war, we 
will try another way, the course pursued by the 
Roman. When the tyrant is dead, Germany will 
be free and happy, and the exultation of his coun- 
trymen will console the conscience of him whom 
the world will call an assassin.” 

“ That is true,” said the three conspirators. 

“Yes,” responded the president. “There are 
four of us here. Two shall avenge Germany. It 
is necessary that two should undertake the task, 
for if one should be unsuccessful, the other may 
not.” 

“ But there are only three of us here,” said one 
of the disguised men. 

“ No,” replied the president, “ there are four ; I 
am the fourth. You must not prevent me from 
participating in a deed requiring intrepid courage, 
and which cannot but involve incalculable dangers. 
I insist on taking part in it.” 

“But the league stands in need of your ser- 
vices. What would become of us if you should 
draw the lot, and, in carrying out the plan, fail and 
be arrested ? ” 

“ In that case, brethren, you will announce on 
the day of the next meeting, when the chair re- 
mains unoccupied, that the president has died in 
the cause, and you will elect another chief. But, 
a truce to further objections ! Let us draw lots. 
Here are two white and two black balls which I 
put into the urn. Those who draw the black 
balls will leave together, and jointly concert a 
plan for the death of the tyrant. The blow must 
be struck in the course of a week, while he is still 
in this city.” 

“It must be,” echoed the three, in solemn 
tones. 

“ But let us swear not to attempt any life but 
his — that no innocent blood be shed — that the 
dagger or the pistol be aimed at him alone. Let 
us swear not to undertake any thing that might 
endanger others ! ” 

“We do so swear, for to destroy any but the 
tyrant would be murder. Now let us extinguish 
all the lights save one, and simultaneously draw a 
ball from the urn.” 

“ Lift up your hands and let us see the balls ! ” 


THE FESTIVITIES OF ERFURT AifD WEIMAR. 


said the president. There was a white ball in his 
own hand. “ It was not God’s will. He did not 
choose me,” he said, with a sigh. 

“ He has chosen us,” said the two who held 
black balls. They grasped each other’s hands, and 
their eyes seemed to read each other’s thoughts. 
He who had drawn the other white ball inclined 
his head and left the room. 

“We go together ; our ways do not separate,” 
said the two who had drawn the black balls, and 
walked arm in arm toward the door. 

The president gazed after them until they had 
disappeared. Extinguishing the last taper, he 
groped cautiously along until he reached the door, 
and stepping out into a corridor, hastened across 
it to the landing of a staircase, at the foot of 
which a small dim lamp was burning. Before 
descending, he took off the mask that had cov- 
ered his face, and the cloak in which he had been 
wrapped, and, rolling them into a bundle, he con- 
cealed it in a drawer fixed under the first step of 
the stau’case, and which was visible only to initia- 
ted eyes. In the flickering light of the lamp the 
beholder might have discerned his tall, slender 
form, and youthful countenance, whose manly ex- 
pression contrasted with his long golden hair. 
He hastened down-stairs, and crossed the haU into 
the street. The noise had ceased, and nearly all 
the lights had burnt out. As he turned a corner 
rapidly, he was attracted by a transparency. The 
inscription, in large letters on a crimson ground, 
read : “ Gab's jetzt nocli einen Oottersohn^ so ware 
€s Napoleon / ” ^ 

A flash of anger burst from the youth’s eyes, 
and he raised his clinched fist menacingly. “You 
miserable dogs,” he said, in a low voice, “ when the 
true Germans come, you will hide yourselves in the 
dust ! ” He walked rapidly until he^reached a small 
house at the lower end of the street, and softly en- 
tering, glided across the hall, cautiously ascended 
the staircase, halted in front of a door up-stairs, 
and gently rapped. It opened immediately, and a 
young woman of surpassing beauty appeared on 
the threshold. “ Oh, Frederick, is it really you ? ” 
she whispered, embracing him. “ You are mine 
again, beloved Frederick ! You did not draw the 
fatal lot ! Heaven refused the sacrifice which you 
were ready to make.” 

“ It is so, Anna,” said the young man. “ But 
why do you weep, dearest? You were formerly 
so courageous, and approved my determination to 
engage in that desperate enterprise ! ” 

She clasped her hands, lifting her large black 
eyes to heaven. “Abraham was ready to sacri- 

* “ If there were now a son of the gods, he would bo Na- 
poleon.” 


Ill 

fice his son,” she said, “ but when his offering was 
not accepted, he was thankful. Thus I also thank 
and praise God at this moment ! ” 

“Yes,” said the young man, gloomily, “He 
rejected my offering, and for the present I am free. 

I come to take leave of you, beloved Anna ; I 
must depart this very night.” 

“You are going to leave me! ” she exclaimed 
in dismay. “ Ah, you have deceived me, then — 
you have drawn the fatal lot I You come to bid 
me farewell, because you are to perpetrate the 
terrible deed I ” 

“ No, Anna. I swear to you by our love I am 
free 1 I did not draw the lot. But I must go 
toLeipsic. My mission here has been accom- 
plished, and I must be about my business. The 
president of the patriotic brethren must descend 
from bis exalted position, and once more become 
a poor insignificant merchant. But I know, and 
predict it, Anna, there will be a day when Ger- 
many will choose me to deliver her from the tyrant. 

A presentiment tells me that the two Avho have 
drawn the black balls to-day will not succeed. 
Their hands trembled when they held up the balls, 
and I saw that they started when they perceived 
them to be black. Yes, they will fail ; but I shall 
not I It is reserved for me ; a shout of joy will 
resound throughout the country, and the people 
will exclaim, ‘We are delivered from the tyrant; 
Germany is free, and the name of our deliverer is 
Frederick Staps 1 ’ ” 

— 

CHAPTER XLI. 

THE FESTIVITIES OF ERFURT AND VTEIMAR. 

Festivities were succeeded by festivities, 
amusements by amusements, and these days of 
Erfurt glided by in friendship, pleasure, and love. 
Napoleon was the host. It was he who received 
the Emperor of Russia, the kings, the dukes, and 
the princes, with their legions of courtiers and 
cavaliers, and treated all the members of these . 
different petty courts with imperial munificence. 

In return there were universal manifestations of 
homage and devotion. The kings and princes 
every morning attended his levee. He arranged 
the entertainments that were to take place, and 
designated those who were to participate in them. 
All bowed to him, even the Emperor Alexander 
himself. The most cordial feeling prevailed be- 
tween the two emperors. They were always seen 
arm in arm, like two loving youths, jealous of 
every minute that separated them. At the dinner 


12 


178 


N'APOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


table, at the theatre, at the balls and concerts, 
they always came together into the proud society 
that awaited them. At dinner, Napoleon, playing 
the polite and obliging host, always had Alexander 
placed at his right. At the theatre, directly behind 
the orchestra, were two gilded easy-chairs on a 
small platform, and the two emperors were en- 
throned on them near each other; on the floor 
behind stood four small arm-chairs, occupied by 
the Kings of Bavaria, Wiirtemberg, Saxony, and 
Westphalia ; and in the rear, on common chairs, sat 
the dukes, princes, counts, and the large array of 
cavaliers and courtiers. Tlie queens and princesses 
were seated in the proscenium-boxes on both 
sides of the stage, and the ladies of the haute-voUe 
in their rich toilets and wealth of jewelry filled the 
first tier. 

Napoleon kept the promise he had made to 
Talma : that celebrated actor played before a pit 
of kings, and it was, perhaps, this fact, or the ex- 
pectant face of Napoleon, whose eyes were on 
him, or the presence of Alexander, who was never 
weary of praising him — it was probably all this 
that enkindled the actor’s enthusiasm. Never be- 
fore had Talma played more effectively — ^never be- 
fore had he assumed such a dignity for enthroned 
greatness, or better studied its bearing in adver- 
sity. His expression of hatred, love, and grief, in 
his impersonations, were never more famous than 
in these gala-days of Erfurt. A sort of inspira- 
tion pervaded the great artist, and his enthusiasm 
infected the spectators, especially Alexander, who 
was carried away by Talma’s passion in the rep- 
resentation of “ ffidipus.” When the actor ex- 
claimed, “ The friendship of a great man is a boon 
of the gods ! ” the Eussian emperor bent over 
Napoleon, and seizing his hand^ pressed it against 
his breast. A murmur of applause was heard ; 
all appeared astonished at this public demonstra- 
tion ; even (Edipus on the stage seemed to be im- 
pressed, and his voice trembled. Napoleon alone 
remained grave and calm, not a feature changed 
or betrayed the satisfaction that his heart could 
not but feel at this moment ; he thanked Alex- 
ander only by a glance, and his attention seemed 
* to be again directed to the stage. 

Late at night Napoleon found, as usual, 'a letter 
from his minister Champagny. “ Old Romanzoff 
insists on the prompt fulfilment of the promises 
of Tilsit,” wrote the minister. “ Constantinople 
— nothing but Constantinople — seems to the stub- 
born Russian an equivalent for Spain. I believe 
the peremptory orders only of his master will sub- 
due this obstinacy.” 

‘'Ah,” murmured Napoleon, crumpling the 
paper in his hand, “I must put a stop to this. 


We must arrive at a definite result. I shall utter 
the decisive word to-morrow ! ” 

On the following morning the kings and princes 
appeared in vain in the anteroom of the Emperor 
Napoleon to attend his levee. He had risen at an 
unusually early hour, and, allured by the sunny 
autumnal morning, visited his friend Alexander, 
who had just risen when Napoleon, unannounced, 
entered with a smiling face. 

“Ah,” exclaimed Alexander, rushing toward 
him with a cry of exultation, and embracing him 
affectionately, “ sire, I dreamed of you all night ; 
you were here at my side, while I was sleeping, 
and all seemed bright, but when I opened my 
eyes and did not see you, the room appeared dark, 
although the sun w^as shining. But now you are 
here, and my dreams are realized.” 

Napoleon’s face suddenly turned gloomy, and 
the smile disappeared from his lips. “ I also had 
a dream,” he said, gravely. “ It seemed to me as 
though I lay on a bed of flowers, and two stars 
were twinkling above me, and as they came nearer 
I saw that they were not stars, but bright eyes 
beaming in a manly face, and looking at me with 
tenderness. I was fascinated. I raised myself as 
if borne on angel-wings, and stretched out my arms 
toward the approaching form. Suddenly I uttered 
a scream ; the friend had been changed into a 
wolf that rushed toward me, and fixing his eyes 
on mine, tore my breast and fed upon my heart. 
Oh, I was in horrible pain — not imaginary but 
real — for I screamed so loudly that Constant, my 
mlet de cliamhre^ hastened from the adjoining 
room and awmkened me. Even now that I think 
of it I tremble, and sadness fills my soul.” He 
bent his head on his breast, and, folding his hands 
behind him, paced the room slowly. 

Alexander looked smilingly at him, but ap- 
proaching, said: “Sire, why this melancholy? 
In truth, when looking at you, one might think, 
my august friend, that you believed in dreams.” 

“ I do,” exclaimed Napoleon, quickly raising 
his head. “ Dreams are revelations from on 
high ! Had Julius Csesar believed iii his dreams, 
and in the prophecies of the astrologers, he would 
not have fallen by the daggers of assassins.” 

“But how will your majesty interpret the 
. dream that tormented you last night ? ” asked 
Alexander. 

Napoleon bent a strange look on his frank 
countenance. “Alexander,” he said, in a low 
voice, “ could you ever transform yourself iiito a 
wolf, and tear out my heart ? ” 

“ I, Napoleon, I ? ” ejaculated Alexander, start- 
ing back in dismay. “ Your majesty, then, does 
not believe in my friendship, in the profound ad- 


THE FESTIVITIES OF ERFURT AND WEIMAR. 


179 


miration for you that fills my soul ? All I have 
said and done has then been in vain ! Instead of 
having won your esteem, your majesty distrusts 
me, and believes the follies of the imagination in 
sleep rather than the protestations of reason, in- 
terest, and friendship ! ” 

“No, no,” said Napoleon, affectionately, and 
almost touched by the profound grief depicted in 
Alexander’s countenance, “ I believe that ' your 
majesty returns a little the love I feel for you. 
I believe in your noble heart, in spite of all 
dreams.” 

“ And I swear to your majesty that you may be- 
lieve in me,” exclaimed Alexander. “ My whole 
policy, the new course upon which I have entered, 
will prove to you, more convincingly than words, 
sire, that I am most anxious to establish a 
firm alliance between Russia and France ; oh, be- 
lieve me, sire, I gladly acknowledge you as my 
superior ; all promptings of jealousy are extinct 
in my heart ; and when, in the face of the enor- 
mous territorial aggrandizements of France, I de- 
sire an enlargement of Russia, too, I do so not for 
my sake, but in order to satisfy my people, that 
they may bear more patiently your operations in 
Spain. For my part, I approve all you have done 
in that country. King Charles and his son Fer- 
dinand have abundantly deserved their present 
fate by their incapacity and baseness, and I do 
not pity them. But one must comprehend the 
system of the great Napoleon as clearly and thor- 
oughly as I do, to be able to pass over the great 
catastrophes which your majesty has caused the 
world to witness. My people, and, above all, my 
nobility, have not yet progressed so far as that, 
and hence the attention of the Russians should 
be turned to important changes in the Orient 
that they may look more indifferently at what 
you are undertaking in the Occident. As for my- 
self, I am your most faithful friend, and I have 
proved it to your majesty by becoming the enemy 
of your enemies. In accordance with your wishes, 
I have declared war against England, and shall 
probably soon have to do the same against Aus- 
tria, for I shall require her in the most energetic 
manner to explain why she is secretly arming ; 
and, if her explanations should not be satisfac- 
tory, draw the sword against her. Then, I suppose, 
your majesty will believe in my friendship ? ” 

“ Oh, I believe in it now,” exclaimed Napoleon, 
pressing the proffered hand of Alexander. “ For 
this friendship is my hope. United, we shall be 
able to carry out the grand schemes which we 
formed at Tilsit. Striding across the world, we 
shall lay it at our feet, and one day there will be 
only two thrones ; but in the beginning we must 


proceed carefully. It took the Creator six 
days to make the world, and each day, most like- 
ly, comprehended a vast number of our years. 
We shall create our world in six years, and 
then we shall look at it, and pronounce it ‘ very 
good.’ But caution is indispensable, for our em- 
pires labor under many burdens. You are waging 
war in Finland, and I am doing so in Spain. Pru- 
dence advises us not to increase these embarrass- 
ments by seeking at this moment for Russia an 
aggrandizement which would fill the world with 
astonishment, and reecho like a war-cry through- 
out Europe. Let the dissolution of Turkey and 
her annexation to Russia be the keystone of our 
creation, the last work of the sixth day. Let 
us erect the new empires on solid foundations, 
which all the storms of this world may not 
shake 1 ” 

“ When Constantinople is mine, I shall not be 
afraid,” exclaimed Alexander, ardently. 

“ Constantinople belongs to the sixth day of 
creation,” said Napoleon, “but we are only at 
the second. Tilsit was the first, Erfurt is the 
second.” 

“And on the second day you take from me 
what you promised on the first ? ” asked Alexan- 
der, whose brow was losing its serenity. 

“ No, I only want to secure it to you,” said 
Napoleon — “ to give a firm base to the edifice of 
our future. If your majesty should take posses- 
sion of Turkey to-day, one-half of Europe would 
arm to-morrow to take it from you, and at this 
moment Russia is unable to brave so many ene- 
mies. Austria would rise against you, for, what- 
ever offers you might make, she would prefer war 
to a partition of Turkey. England would see her 
commerce endangered, and enter into the con- 
test from calculations *of self-interest. Besides, 
Turkey herself would wage war with the fanati- 
cism of her menaced nationality. Where are the 
armies which your majesty could oppose to the 
united forces of England, Austria, and Turkey? 
It is true, you have an army on the Danube, suffi- 
ciently strong to oppose Turkey, but too weak if 
the whole nation should rise. Your principal 
army is in Finland, and you have no troops to 
war against Austria. I alone, therefore — for, as 
a matter of course, I shall remain your faithful 
ally — I should have to struggle with Austria, 
England, Spain, and, perhaps, with the whole of 
Germany. To be sure, I might do so, for I have 
sufficient power to cope with all my enemies. 
But would it be wise to enter at once into enter- 
prises so vast? And what for? To pursue a 
chimerical project which, how grand soever it may 
be, is not attainable at this time.” 


180 


NAPOLEON AND QLT:EN LOUISA. 


“ Alas ! ” siglied Alexander, “ I see that your 
majesty is right, and that mountain diffieulties 
rise between me and my cherished project ! I 
shall have to return empty-handed to my ances- 
tors, and when Peter the Great asks me, “ What 
have you done to fulfil my will ? Where are the 
provinces that you have added to my empire ? ’ 
I must hang my head in confusion and say 
that — ” 

“ No,” exclaimed Napoleon, in a loud and sol- 
emn voice ; “ you will proudly raise your head 
and reply : ‘ Look at Russia ! I have made her 
great at home and abroad. I have given to my 
people civilization and culture, and added to my 
empire new provinces which promote its great- 
ness and power more substantially than Constan- 
tinople itself would have done. The possession 
of that city is a dream. I have annexed to my 
country real provinces.’ That is w'hat you will 
reply to your great ancestor, sire, provided you 
go to him before having arrived at your sixth 
day of creation.” 

Alexander was speechless for a moment, as if 
fascinated by Napoleon’s countenance, beaming 
with energy and determination. 

“ What provinces does your majesty allude 
to ? ” he asked, dreamily. 

“ They lie at the feet of Russia, and seem only 
to wait for your majesty to pick them up. Mol- 
davia and Wallachia you will present as new 
crown jewels to your empire. They are substan- 
tial realities in place of visionary wishes ; solid 
possessions far more important than Constanti- 
nople.” 

“ That is true,” exclaimed Alexander. “ I have 
myself thought so for a long time, but I dare not 
avow it, because I was afraid your majesty would 
not agree with me.” 

“France knows no envy,” said the emperor, 
“ and Napoleon loves his friend Alexander ; he 
will gladly grant to him what he desires, and what 
is attainable. Take Moldavia and Wallachia, 
sire ! ” 

“You grant them to me,” exclaimed Alexan- 
der, “and it is no empty promise, but a definite 
and immutable agreement ? ” 

“ I say, sire, take them at once, and woe to 
those who would dare touch your new posses- 
sions ! ” 

“I thank you, sire,” Alexander said. “You 
have given me a proof of your friendship to-day, 
and old Romanzoff will have to acknowledge that 
he is wrong in thinking that you only intended 
to amuse us with idle promises. Ah, he is a hard 
head, and I believe your Minister Champagny can- 
not get along with him very well.” 


“ That is so,” exclaimed Napoleon, laughings 
and Alexander joined heartily in his mirth. 

“ Ee will now demand guaranties,” said Alex- 
ander, still laughing. “ He is so distrustful that 
he believes in no words, though from heaven. 
My old Romanzoff believes only in black and 
white.” 

“We will so guarantee Moldavia to him,” said 
Napoleon. 

“ Oh, not for my sake,” exclaimed Alexander, 
carelessly. “ Your majesty’s word is amply suffi- 
cient for me ; let Romanzoff and Champagny quar- 
rel about the formalities.” 

“ I will come to the assistance of poor Cham- 
pagny,” said Napoleon, “if your majesty, in re- 
turn, will be kind enough to make stubborn Ro- 
manzoff somewhat more tractable. You have 
already occupied these provinces ; it will, there- 
fore, be oasy for you to annex them. France will 
give her consent by a formal treaty, and not only 
engage to recognize this annexation so far as she 
herself is concerned, but also to compel Turkey, 
Austria, and England, to acknowledge it. Your 
majesty, therefore, will break the armistice with 
Turkey, and advance your army to the foot of the 
Balkan, then to Adrianoplc, and, if need be, to 
Constantinople, in order to wrest these territories 
from the Porte. In case Austria should inter- 
vene, we shall both declare war against her. As 
for England, we are already at war with her. It 
will only be necessary for me to give her a bloody 
defeat in Spain to render her insensible to any 
enterprises we may enter into on the continent. 
All this we stipulate not only verbally, but in 
writing. Will that satisfy your majesty ? ” 

“ Me ? I am satisfied with your majesty’s 
word,”, exclaimed Alexander. 

“ Well, then,” said Napoleon, with a smile, 
“ the question is. Will your minister be satis- 
fied ? ” 

“Of course, he will; and, moreover, I shall 
command him to raise no further objections. Let 
Champagny and Romanzoff draw up the treaty ; 
it wall then be merely necessary for us to sign it, 
and the whole matter is settled. Our friendship 
will have been rendered more intimate and lasting 
by new bonds, which nothing in the wmrld wall be 
able to break.” 

“As to our other plans,” said Napoleon, “we 
shall never lose sight of them. Every day we 
draw nearer to their fulfilment. There is yet a 
vast future before us in which to accomplish our 
purposes with regard to the Orient, and to re- 
model its political affairs. Romanzoff is aged, 
and hence, impatient to enjoy what he desires. 
But you are young : you can wait.” 


THE FESTIVITIES OF ERFURT AND WEIMAR. 


181 


“ Romanzoif is a Russian of the old school,” 
said Alexander, smiling. “ He has passions and 
inclinations from which I am free. I attach a 
higher value to civilizing than enlarging my em- 
pire. Hence, I desire the provinces of the Dan- 
ube more for my nation than for myself. I shall 
be able to wait patiently until our plans can be 
carried into effect. But you, my noble friend, 
you ought to enjoy in tranquillity the great things 
which you have accomplished, and no longer ex- 
pose yourself to the danger of war. Have you 
not obtained glory and power enough ? Alexan- 
der and Csesar gained no more laurels than you ! 
Be happy, and let us leave the execution of our 
projects to the future.” 

“ Yes, let us do so,” replied Napoleon. “ I am 
also longing for repose. I am tired of conquest ; 
it has charms for me no longer, and battle-fields 
seem to me what they are — the graveyards of 
brave men prematurely taken from their country 
and their families. No more war ! Peace with 
the whole world, made more desirable by the 
friendship of Alexander ! ” He offered his hand 
with that smile which no one could withstand. 
“ Oh ! ” he continued, “ I am so happy at having at 
length arrived at an understanding with you, and 
strengthened our alliance, that I wish your ma- 
jesty had some desire that I might grant, and 
which it would be difficult for me to fulfil. Is 
there nothing at all that you could demand of 
me ?” 

“Yes, sire, there is,” responded Alexander, 
“ and I have both a wish and a prayer to address 
your majesty. Sire, my ally, the poor King of 
Prussia, and his noble consort, are still living in 
exile. I saw them, with your consent, on passing 
through Konigsberg, and confess that I promised 
to intercede for them, and procure an alleviation 
of their unfortunate condition.” 

“ An alleviation of their unfortunate condi- 
tion ! ” exclaimed Napoleon, frowning. “ Do 
they not owe their present fate entirely to them- 
selves ? Why do they not pay punctually the 
contributions which I have imposed upon them ? ” 

“ Sire, because they cannot ! Prussia, ex- 
hausted, and reduced to one-half of her former 
territory, is unable to pay war contributions 
amounting to one hundred and fifty millions of 
dollars, in the short space of two years, and to 
feed, besides, a French army of forty thousand 
men. Your majesty ought to be magnanimous, 
and restore at least a semblance of independence 
to my poor ally, by putting an end to the occupa- 
tion.” 

“ If I do so, Prussia would think no longer of 
fulfilling her obligations to me,” exclaimed Napo- 


leon. “ Instead of paying the war contributions, 
she would be foolish enough to rise in open hos- 
tility against me. Queen Louisa hates me ; she 
will never cease to intrigue against me, and to 
instigate her husband to pursue a course hostile 
to me. She surrounds herself and her husband 
by men who share her sentiments, and are plot- 
ting to revolutionize Prussia — nay, all Germany. 
There is, for instance, a certain Baron von Stein, 
whom the king appointed minister at the request 
of the queen, and who is nothing but a tool in 
the hands of this intriguing woman. That Stein 
is a bad and dangerous man ; he is at the head 
of secret societies, and I shall immediately lake 
steps to render him harmless. He and the queen 
alone make Prussia oppose me, and refuse pay- 
ing the stipulated contributions.” 

“ Sire,” said Alexander, almost imploringly, “ I 
repeat to your majesty, Prussia is unable to pay 
the enormous amount which has even been in- 
creased after the conclusion of the treaty of Tilsit, 
and, moreover, in the short space of two years. 
Oh, your majesty, the fate of the royal family of 
Prussia is truly pitiable and weighs down my soul 
with remorse. Do for^my sake what you are un 
willing to do for the sake of Prussia. Let me not 
return without consolation to that mourning royal 
family. Let me enjoy the triumph of proving to 
them that my word^ and intercession were able to 
obtain from your majesty what neither the queen’s 
letter, nor all the solicitations of Prince William, 
and of the Prussian diplomatists, had been able to 
accomplish! Oh, sire, you see I am vain, and 
would like to demonstrate your friendship for 
me.” 

Napoleon’s countenance grew milder while Al- 
exander was impressively uttering these words. 
“ Sire,” he said, “ who could withstand your grace 
and magnanimity ? I wished a few minutes ago 
to be allowed to grant you some request, difficult 
for me to fulfil, in order to give you a proof of 
my regard ! Well, your majesty has really asked 
something very difficult for me to grant. But I 
will comply for your sake, sire 1 I will deduct 
twenty millions from the sum to be paid by Prus- 
sia, extend the time in which the contributions 
are to be paid from two to three years, and with- 
draw my troops and officials, in the course of six 
months. Is your majesty satisfied with this, and 
will you regard it as a proof of my friendship ? ” 

“ It is a proof of your friendship and generosity, 
and I thank your majesty,” exclaimed Alexander. 
Oh, how happy I shall be when on my return I 
announce these glad tidings to the royal couple I 
Ah, my poor allies have suffered a great deal, and 
if your majesty does not object, I should like to 


182 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


invite King Frederick William and his consort, 
next winter, to spend a few weeks at St. Peters- 
burg. Does your majesty approve ? ” 

Napoleon cast a quick and searching glance at 
Alexander. “I do not assume to decide whom 
your majesty should hospitably receive,” he said, 
“ and I confide in your friendship — you are hence- 
forth my ally. Get the King of Prussia to join 
this alliance, as the latter induced you to join the 
alliance against me; that would indeed greatly 
promote the welfare of Frederick William, and 
put an end to the intrigues of his queen. But 
now, sire, a truce to politics and business! We 
are agreed and shall be united in peace as in war. 
Our business is accomplished, and the days we 
still spend here must be exclusively devoted to 
pleasure and friendly intercourse. The Duke of 
Weimar would like to receive us for a few days at 
his capital, to arrange a chase and a ball. Sup- 
pose we go thither this afternoon and spend two 
days ? Would it be agreeable to you ? ” 

“ I would accompany your majesty anywhere, 
were it into Orcus,” exclaimed Alexander. “ Let 
us go to Weimar 1 ” 

“ And if you please, sire, to Jena also. I 
should like to show the t)attle-field to your ma- 
jesty.” 

“ And I should like to learn from your majesty 
how to win such laurels. I follow you as a pu- 
pil.” 

\ 


CHAPTER XLII. 

, NAPOLEON AND GOETHE. 

On his return from the early visit he had paid 
to the Emperor of Russia, Napoleon immediately 
went to his cabinet and sent for Minister Cham- 
pagny, whom he met with unusual animation ; 
and now, that he deemed it no longer necessary to 
mask his countenance, it was beaming with joy. 
“Champagny,” he said, “it wdll be no longer 
necessary for you to send letters to me. The em- 
peror Alexander has accepted my offers, and 
Romanzoff will have to hang up his ‘ cat’s tongue ’ 
in the smoke-house. For the present the ap- 
petite of the Russian Emperor for new territories 
has been satisfied with the provinces of the Dan-' 
ttbe, and he will compel his minister to yield. 
Tlie stubborn old fellow will have to give way, 
but, we are obliged to give him our promises in 
black and white. I go this afternoon with the 
emperor to Weimar to spend a few days. You 
may in the mean time carry on the negotiations. 


with Romanzoff and draw up the treaty. I shall 
send you further instructions to-night.” 

“ And will not your majesty be kind enough to 
give me also instructions as to the course I am to 
pursue toward the Austrian ambassador. Count 
Yincent ? ” said the minister. “ He overwhelms 
me every day with questions and demands. He 
is very anxious to obtain an interview with your 
majesty, to learn from your own lips that Austria 
has nothing to fear from France, and that your 
majesty believes in the sincerity of the friendship 
and devotedness of his master.” 

“ I believe in the sincerity of Austria ! ” ex- 
claimed Napoleon, frowning. I know her per- 
fidy; I know that she is secretly arming to attack 
me as soon as she believes me to be embarrassed 
by the events in Spain. But I will unmask these 
hypocrites, and meet them with open visor. I 
will wage war against them, because they disdain 
to remain at peace with me. Now that I am sure 
of Russia, I am no longer afraid of Austria, for 
Russia will assist me in the war against her, or at 
least not prevent me from attacking and punish- 
ing her for her insolence. It was in my power to 
overthrow that monarchy as I have overthrown 
those of Naples and Spain. I refrained, and Aus- 
tria is indebted to me for her existence. Now, 
however, I am inexorable, and when I once more 
make my entry into Vienna, it will be as dictator 
prescribing laws to the vanquished. Austria is 
arming, and France will arm for another Auster- 
litz. I authorize you to repeat these words to 
Count Yincent. I myself will write to his em- 
peror and intrust my letter to the ambassador. 
Tell him so.” He dismissed the minister and re- 
paired to the dining-room. 

Breakfast was ready, and had been served on a 
round table in the middle of the room. Talley- 
rand, Berthier, Savary, and Daru, received the 
emperor, and accompanied him to the table, not 
to participate in the repast, but to converse with 
him, as Napoleon liked to do while he was eating, 
and to reply to the questions which he addressed 
now to one, now to another. 

“ Well, Daru,” he asked, taking his seat, “you 
come from Berlin ? What about the payment of 
the contributions ? ” 

“ Ah, sire, the prospects are very discouraging,” 
said Daru, shrugging his shoulders. “ More rigor- 
ous measures will probably become necessary to 
coerce those stubborn Prussians, and — ” 

The door opened, and Constant, the valet de 
chamhre, entered, whispering a few words to 
Marshal Berthier. 

The marshal approached the emperor, who was 
engaged with the wing of a chicken. “ Sire,” he 


NAPOLEON AND GOETHE. 


183 


baid, “ your majesty ordered M. von Goethe to ap- 
pear before you at this hour. He is in the ante- 
room.” 

“ Ah, M. von Goethe, the great German poet, the 
author of the ‘ Sorrows of Werther,’ ” exclaimed 
Napoleon. “ Let him come in immediately.” A 
moment later Constant announced M. von Goethe. 
Napoleon was still sitting at the table; Talley- 
rand was standing at his right ; Daru, Savary, 
and Berthier, at his left. The eyes of all turned 
toward the door, where appeared a gentleman of 
high, dignified bearing. He was tall and vigorous, 
like a German oak ; the head of a Jupiter sur- 
mounted his broad shoulders and chest. Time, 
with its wrinkling hand, had tried in vain to de- 
form the imperishable beauty of that counte- 
nance ; age could not touch the charm and dignity 
of his features ; the grace of youth still played 
on his classic lips, and the ardor of a young heart 
was beaming from his dark eyes as they looked 
calmly at the emperor. 

Napoleon, continuing to eat, beckoned Goethe, 
with a careless wave of his hand, to approach. 
He complied, and stood in front of the table, op- 
posite the emperor, who looked up, and, turning 
with an expression of surprise to Talleyrand, 
pointed to Goethe, and exclaimed, “ Ah, that is 
a man ! ” * An imperceptible smile overspread 
the poet’s countenance, and he bowed in silence. 

“ How old are you, M. von Goethe ? ” asked 
Napoleon. 

Sire, I am in my sixtieth year.” 

“ In your sixtieth year, and yet you have the 
appearance of a youth ! Ah, it is evident that per- 
petual intercourse with the muses has imparted 
external youth to you.” 

“ Sire, that is true,” exclaimed Daru, “ the 
muse of Goethe is that of youth, beauty, and 
grace. Germany justly calls him her greatest 
poet, and does homage with well-grounded enthu- 
siasm to the author of ‘Faust,’ of ‘Werther,’ 
and of so many other master-pieces.” 

“ I believe you have also written tragedies ? ” 
asked Napoleon. 

“Sire, I have made some attempts,” replied 
Goethe, smiling. “ But the applause of my coun- 
trymen cannot blind me as to the real value of my 
dramas. I believe it is very difficult, if not im- 
possible, for a German poet to write real tragedies, 
which fulfil the higher requirements of art, and 


* “ Voildb un homme ! ” These words created a great 
sensation at the time, and were highly appreciated by 
the admirers of Goethe, as well as by the great poet him- 
self. His correspondence with friends contains numer- 
ous allusions to them.— Vide “ Kiemer’s Letters to and 
from Goethe,” p. 825. 


withal those of tl^e stage. I must confess that 
my tragedies are not so adapted.” 

“ Sire,” said Daru, “ M. von Goethe has also 
translated Voltaire’s ‘ Mohammed.’ ” 

“ That is not a good tragedy,” said Napo- 
leon. “ Voltaire has sinned against history 
and the human heart. He has prostituted the 
character of Mohammed by petty intrigues. He 
makes a man, who revolutionized the world, act 
like an infamous criminal deserving the gallows. 
Let us rather speak of Goethe’s own work — of the 
‘Sorrows of Werther.’ I have read it many 
times, and it has always afforded me the highest 
enjoyment ; it accompanied me to Egypt, and dur- 
ing my campaigns in Italy, and it is therefore but 
just that I should return thanks to the poet for 
the many pleasant hours he has afforded me.” 

“ Sire, your majesty, at this moment, amply re- 
wards me,” said Goethe, bowing slightly. 

“Your ‘Werther’ is indeed a work full of the 
most exalted ideas,” added Napoleon ; “ it con- 
tains noble views of life, and depicts the weari- 
ness and disgust which all high-minded characters 
must feel on being forced to leave their sphere 
and come in contact with the gross world. You 
have described the sufferings of your hero with 
irresistible eloquence, and never, perhaps, has a 
poet made a more artistic analysis of love. Let 
me tell you, however, that you have not been en- 
tirely consistent in the work. You make your 
hero die not only of love, but of wounded ambi- 
tion, and you mention expressly that the injustice 
he met with at the hands of his official superiors 
was a wound always bleeding, of which he suf- 
fered even in the presence of the lady whom he 
loved so passionately. That is not quite natural, 
and weakens in the mind of the reader the com- 
prehension of that in^uence which love exerted on 
Werther. Why did you do so ? ” 

Goethe looked almost in astonishment at the 
emperor ; this unexpected censure, and the quick, 
categorical question, had equally surprised him, 
and momentarily disturbed the calmness of the 
poet. “ Sire,” he said, after a brief pause, “ your 
majesty has found fault with something with 
which no one has reproached me heretofore, and 
I confess that your criticism has struck me. But 
it is just, and I deserve it. However, a poet may 
be pardoned for using an artifice which cannot 
easily be detected, in order to produce a certain 
effect that he believes he is unable to bring about 
in a simple and natural way.” 

Napoleon nodded assentingly. “Your ‘Wer- 
ther ’ is a drama of the heart, and there are none 
to be compared with it,” he said. “ After reading 
it, I am persuaded that it is your vocation to write 


184 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


in thi^ style ; for the tragic muse is the favorite 
companion of the greatest poet. Tragedy was at 
times the school of great men. It is the duty 
of sovereigns to encourage, patronize, and reward 
it. In order to appreciate it correctly, we need 
not be. poets ourselves ; we only need knowledge 
of human nature, of life, and of a cultivated 
mind. Tragedy fires the heart, elevates the soul, 
and can or rather must create heroes. I am con- 
vinced that France is indebted to the works of 
Corneille for many of her greatest men. If he were 
living I would make a prince of him.” 

“ Your majesty, by your words, has just adorn- 
ed his memory with the coronet of a prince,” said 
Goethe. “ Corneille would assuredly have deserved 
it, for he was a poet in the noblest sense, and 
imbued with the ideas and principles of modern 
civilization. . Hn ynever makes his heroes die in 
consequence of a decree of fate, but they always 
bear in themselves the germ of their ruin or 
death ; it is a natural, rational death, not an arti- 
ficial one.” 

“ Let us say no more about the ancients and 
their fatalism,” exclaimed Napoleon ; “ they be- 
long to a darker age. Political supremacy is our 
modern fatalism, and our tragedies must be the 
school of politicians and statesmen. That is the 
highest summit which poets are able to reach. 
You, for instance, ought to write the death of 
Csesar ; it seems to me you could present a much 
more exalted view of it than Yoltaire did. That 
might become the noblest task of your, life. It 
ought to be proved to the world how happy and 
prosperous Caesar would have made it if time had 
been given him to carry his comprehensive plans 
into effect. What do you think of it, M. von 
Goethe ? ” 

“ Sire,” said Goethe, with a polite smile, “ I 
should prefer to write the life and career of Caesar, 
and in doing so I should not be at a loss for a 
model.” His eyes met those of the emperor, and 
they well understood each other. Both of them 
smiled. 

“You ought to go to Paris,” exclaimed Napoleon. 
“ I insist on your doing so. There you will find 
abundant matter for your muse.” 

“ Your majesty provides the poets of the pres- 
ent time, wherever they may be, with abundant 
matter,” said Goethe, not in the tone of a cour- 
tier, but with the tranquillity of a prince who con- 
fers a favor. 

“ You must go to Paris,” repeated Napoleon. 
“We shall meet again.” 

Goethe, who was an experienced courtier, un- 
derstood the delicate hint, and stepped back from 
the table. Napoleon addressed a question to 


Marshal Soult, who entered at this moment. The 
poet withdrew without further ceremony. The eyes 
of the emperor followed the tall, proud figure, and 
turning to Berthier, he repeated his exclamation, 
“ Voild un liommeP'' 


CHAPTEE XLIII. 

THE CHASE AND THE ASSASSINS. 

The two emperors made their entry into the 
decorated city of Weimar amidst pealing bells, 
and the cheers of the people. The Duchess of 
Weimar, just as she had done two years before, 
received the French conqueror at the head of the 
palace staircase ; this time, however, she was not 
alone, but her husband, whom the emperor had 
formerly hated and reviled so bitterly, stood at 
her side. Napoleon greeted the ducal couple 
with his most winning smile. 

The events of those terrible days of the past 
had been well-nigh forgotten. A short time had 
sufiSced to veil their memory, and Napoleon was 
a welcome and highly-honored guest two years after 
the battle of Jena. No vestige of the former dis- 
tress remained ; but the laurels of the victor had 
not withered. 

A vast number of carriages, horsemen, and pe- 
destrians, filled the streets. The whole country 
had sent its representatives to greet the emperors. 
All the houses were ornamented with flags, fes- 
toons, busts, and laudatory inscriptions. But no 
one cared to stay at home. The inhabitants and 
strangers hastened to the forest of Ettersburg, to 
witness the great chase which the Duke of Wei- 
mar had arranged in honor of the imperial guests. 
— Several hundred deer had been driven up and 
fenced in, close to the large clearing which was 
to be the scene of this day’s festivities. In the 
middle rose a huge hunting-pavilion, the roof of 
which rested on pillars twined with flowers. Here 
the two emperors were to witness the chase, and 
the two wings of the structure were assigned to 
the kings, dukes, and princes. All eyes and 
thoughts, therefore, were turned in that direction ; 
and yet no one noticed particularly two youthful 
forms, wrapped in cloaks and leaning against an 
oak near the gamekeepers. The merry clamor and 
the bugle-calls of the hunters drowned the conver- 
sation of these young men. No one was surprised 
at seeing rifles in their hands ; they might be hunt- 
ers or gamekeepers — who could tell ? 

“ I believe,” said one of them, in a whisper, 
“ we shall accomplish nothing. My rifle does not 


THE CHASE AND THE ASSASSINS. 


185 


carry far enough to hit him, and we are not 
allowed to approach nearer.” 

“It is impossible to take a sure aim from 
here,” replied the other. “ My eye does not reach 
so far; I could fire only at random into the 
pavilion.” 

“ The order says, however, to strike him 
alone, and not to endanger other lives,” said the 
first speaker. “ The president said, if we kill 
him, it would be an act of justice; but if we 
are so unfortunate as to kill another, it would be 
murder.” 

“ Oh, what sophistries to lull the warning voice 
of conscience ! ” murmured the second speaker ; 

(( J M 

Loud cheers interrupted him ; the notes of 
bugles and the roll of drums mingled with the 
general uproar. The people seemed wild with 
excitement, and the deer in the enclosure huddled 
together in terror. The tw'O emperors with their 
suites had just arrived. 

“ Look at him, brother,” whispered the young 
man to his companion ; “ look at the weird 
contrast of his gloomy countenance with the 
merry faces around him. He stands like some 
incarnate spirit of evil in the midst of laughing 
fools.” 

“Yes, but he is himself merry, brother Alfred, 
or seems to be,” said his companion. • 

“ The groans of poor Germania are not heard 
in the flatteries of her princes, who are fawning 
around him, and guarding him so well that the 
hand of a true German cannot reach him.” 

“ But the sword is hanging over him, brother 
Conrad,” said Alfred, “ and if it do not fall on 
him to-day, it will to-morrow. Let us wait and 
watch for an opportunity.” 

“ Yes, Alfred, let us wait. We know not what 
favorable chance may aid us.” 

The chase commenced ; amidst deafening shouts 
the game were driven from the enclosure. When- 
ever a deer passed near the pavilion, the two emper- 
ors fired, and when the noble animal fell at perhaps 
ten yards’ distance, the spectators cheered, the 
bugles sounded, and the two imperial sportsmen 
congratulated each other on their skill. 

“ It is in vain to stand here any longer,” said 
Conrad, impatiently. “We shall be unable to 
reach him, and it is repugnant to my feelings to 
witness this butchery.” 

“ Let us go, brother,” whispered Alfred. “ We 
must try to find another opportunity. Let us re- 
flect. Do you know the programme of the day’s 
festivities ? ” 

“Ido. After the chase there will be a gala- 
dinner, and the sovereigns will then ride to the 


theatre, where the ‘ Death of Cfcsar ’ will be per- 
formed. After the representation of the tragedy, 
there will be a grand supper and ball at the 
palace.” 

“ The ‘ Death of Cassar ? ’ ” asked Conrad, mus- 
ingly. “ Does fate intend giving us a hint there- 
by ? Does it show us where to find him and to 
strike the blow ? Let us be the actors in a similar 
play, and perform our part at the entrance of the 
theatre ! Are you ready, brother ? ” 

“I am ready,” replied Alfred, sighing. “We 
have sworn to do every thing the league orders us 
to do — we must obey.” 

“ Yes,” said Conrad, sighing, “ obey or die. 
Let us take our daggers to-night, and use them 
well. Let us place ourselves in front of the the- 
atre, you on the right, and myself on the left. 
We must strike at the same time, when he alights 
from his carriage. While all are gazing at him, 
let us stealthily slip through the crowd. When 
you hear me shout ‘ One,’ you will shout ‘ Two ! ’ 
We will then simultaneously rush forward.” 

“ At what time do we meet ? ” 

“ At seven o’clock, and if we escape death 
and arrest, we shall meet again at the tavern 
outside the gate. Farewell, brother Alfred ! ” 

“ Farewell, brother Conrad ! ” 

On the same evening, a thousand lights illumi- 
nated Weimar. That part of the city between the 
palace and the theatre, where the emperors would 
pass, was especially brilliant. When after the chase 
they had withdrawn to rest a little, and the high 
dignitaries of the court were waiting in the large 
reception-halls, Grand-Marshal Duroc approached 
General von Muffling, who had left the Russian 
service ; he was now vice-president in Weimar, 
and had been charged by the duke with the super- 
vision of the court festivities. 

“ Tell me, sir,” said Duroc, in a low voice, “ I 
suppose you have a good police here ? ” 

“Of course, we have,” replied Muffling, smiling, 
“ that is to say, we have a police to attend to 
sweeping the chimneys and cleaning the streets, 
but as to a haute police^ we still live in a state of 
perfect innocence.” 

“ The emperor, then, is to go to the theatre, 
and your police have taken no precautions for his 
safety ? ” asked Duroc, anxiously. 

“ I believe it is so, M. Grand Marshal. If you 
wish to make any arrangements, pray do so, and 
I shall approve them.” 

“ Thank you,” said Duroc, bowing. “ I have 
secretly sent for a brigade of French gendarmes. 
Will you permit them to guard the doors of the 
theatre, and keep the populace from the streets 
along which the emperors will ride ? ” 


186 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


“ Do as you please, M. Grand Marshal,” said 
General von Muffling, with a slightly sarcastic 
smile. “A detachment of the imperial guard 
will be drawn up in front of the theatre, and 
hence I deemed any further precautions entirely 
superfluous.” 

“The grenadiers are posted there only as a 
guard of honor,” said Duroc; “ I hasten to send 
the gendarmes thither.” 

Fifteen minutes afterward the whole route from 
the palace to the theatre was guarded by gen- 
darmes, who pushed back all who tried to cross 
the narrow sidewalks, or to step into the street 
along which the carriages were rolling. A double 
line of grenadiers was drawn up in front of the 
theatre. An officer w^alked up and down, gazing 
anxiously along the street, in order to command 
the drummers to beat according to the rank of the 
sovereigns arriving. For the emperors they were 
to roll thrice, for the kings twice, and but once 
for the sovereign dukes and princes. The drum- 
mers had just rolled three times, for the Emperor 
Alexander had arrived. Another magnificent car- 
riage approached ; the coachman on the box was 
covered with gold lace, and two runners, entirely 
clad in gold brocade, accompanied. Two rolls had 
already been beaten, a third was about to com- 
mence, when the commanding officer waved his 
hand angrily, and shouted, “ Silence ! It is only a 
king ! ” The stout form of the King of Wurtem- 
berg appeared, and hastened into the theatre. An- 
other carriage approached. The drummers beat 
louder than before. Once, twice ! And then a 
third roll. The grenadiers presented arms, and 
the people rushed forward. It was the Emperor 
Napoleon. 

At this moment a young man elbowed himself 
through the crowd. He was already close to the 
emperor. Only a single gendarme was in front of 
him. 

“ One ! ” he shouted in a ringing voice, pushing 
aside the gendarme. “ One I ” he repeated. No 
voice replied. 

“ Stand back ! ” cried the guard. 

The emperor walked past. He had heard the 
shout. At the door he turned his stem face, 
while his eyes flashed for a moment searchingly 
over the crowd. He then slowly walked on. No 
accident disturbed the representation, and the 
daggers that bad been lurking outside for the 
modem Caesar had failed to strike him. 

On the same evening the two conspirators 
met at the place agreed on. With disappointed 
faces they seemed to read each other’s secret 
thoughts. 

“ Why did you not reply to me, brother ? ” 


asked Conrad. “ Why were you silent when I 
gave the signal ? ” 

“ I was unable to get through the crowd,” 
said Alfred. “ The gendarmes refused to let me 
pass, and it appeared to me they were eying me 
suspiciously. It was impossible to penetrate to 
the spot indicated. I heard you call, but could 
not reply ; I was too far from you.” 

“The work, then, must be done to-morrow,” 
said Conrad, gravely and sadly. 

“Eemember, brother, that the order of the 
president was to strike the blow within a week. 
To-morrow is the last day ! ” 

“ Yes, to-morrow we must desecrate the sacred 
cause of the fatherland by an assassination,” 
said Alfred, sighing. “ But we have sworn not 
to shrink from death if the league requires it, 
and must obey ! ” 

“We must obey or die,” murmured Conrad. 
“ Do you know the programme of to-morrow ? ” 

“ I do, brother. Napoleon wishes to show the 
battle-field of Jena to the Emperor Alexander, and 
to the kings and princes; and the Duke of Wei- 
mar, who participated in the battle at the head 
of a Prussian division, has arranged, in harmless 
self-irony, a hare-hunt. That will be a highly 
dignified celebration of the anniversary of that 
battle.” 

“ Oh, Germania ! how thou must suffer ! ” 
groaned Conrad. “ It is time for us to place a 
bloody offering on thy altar ! It must be done 
to-morrow. The road to Jena crosses the small 
forest of the Webicht. Let us place ourselves 
there close to the road, armed with our muskets. 
One of their balls will surely hit him. We must 
both shoot at the same time.” 

“To-morrow, then, in the forest of the Web- 
icht ! ” 

On the following day the imperial and royal 
visitors repaired to Jena, in order to hunt 
hares on the battle-field of Napoleon’s famous 
victory. On the Landgrafenberg, where Napo- 
leon two years ago had spent the night be- 
fore the battle at a bivouac-fire, a magnificent 
tent had been erected, and the Duke of Weimar 
begged leave to call it henceforth “ Napoleons- 
berg.” Napoleon granted the request, smiling- 
ly, and then asked the company to take a walk 
with him across the battle-field, that he might ex- 
plain to them the various operations of the great 
struggla This request of course was received 
with general joy, and the party descended into the 
valley. Napoleon led the way ; on his right Alex- 
ander, on his left Prince William of Prussia, 
whom he had taken care to have by his side. 
All listened in breathless silence to his words, 


• THE CHASE AND THE ASSASSINS. 


187 


which wei’C growing more and more enthusiastic. 
He disclosed to his audience his own plans and 
motives, as well as the disastrous dispositions of 
his enemies. Alexander listened to him mus- 
ingly ; the German kings and princes, in breath- 
less suspense. The French marshals, however, 
looked discontented while their sovereign was 
speaking. Once, when the emperor was just ex- 
patiating in glowing words on the correct mode 
of warfare, his eyes happened to meet the coun- 
tenance of Berthier, Prince of Neufchatel, and 
noticed the dissatisfied expression of his features. 

When Napoleon repaired to his tent, he ordered 
Marshal Berthier to follow him. “ Berthier, why 
did you look so angry ? ” 

“ Sire,” faltered Berthier, in confusion, “ I do 
not know that I did.” 

“ But I know it. Why were you dissatisfied. 
Speak ! I command you ! ” 

“Well, if your majesty insists, I will speak,” 
exclaimed Berthier. “ Your majesty apparently 
forgot what you have repeated to us so often : 
that we ought always to treat our allies as though 
they afterward might become our enemies. Is 
your majesty not afraid lest the sovereigns should 
profit hereafter by the excellent lessons given 
them to-day ? ” 

The emperor smiled. “Berthier,” he said, 
kindly, “ that is truly a bold rebuke, and hence 
I like it. I believe you take me for a babbler. 
You think, then. Prince of Neufchatel,” he added, 
bending over Berthier and pulling his ear, “ that 
I have put whips into the hands of the German 
princes which they might use against us ! Be not 
alarmed ; I do not tell them every thing.” And 
Napoleon opened the door of the tent with a 
laugh, and gave the signal for the hunt to begin. 

Not a human voice was to be heard in the for- 
est of Webicht, which was generally much fre- 
quented. It was but a bird’s song that broke the 
deep silence. Suddenly there was a rustling noise 
in the autumnal leaves covering the ground, and 
quick footsteps approached the road crossing the 
middle of the forest. Two young men, wrapped 
In cloaks, glided through the woods, and stationed 
themselves behind a couple of large beeches. 
They looked searchingly along the road ; opened 
their cloaks, and raised their weapons to examine 
them, that they might make sure work. 

“ All right,” said Conrad. 

“ All right,” echoed Alfred. 

“ When I call out ‘ One,’ we must both fire ! ” 

“ Yes, but we have been ordered to kill none 
but him,” said Alfred, hesitatingly. “ What if he 
does not ride alone? If one of the balls should 
strike an innocent man ? ” 


“ If one of his marshals or adjutants sits beside 
him he would not be an innocent man, for he has 
assisted in making our country unhappy ! Let 
German soil drink his blood ! He must not pre- 
vent us from carrying out our purpose. We can- 
not shrink from it, because we have sworn obe- 
dience to the league, and this is the last day. We 
must do or die ! ” 

“ Hush ! let us listen and watch for him, brother 
Conrad.” Soon the roll of wheels was heard. The 
two conspirators raised their muskets as the car- 
riage approached. It could be seen that it con- 
tained two persons. 

“ It is he,” whispered Alfred. “ But who is 
seated by his side ? ” 

“ One of his adjutants,” said Conrad ; “ no mat- 
ter ! Let us aim, brother.” The large trunks of 
the beeches concealed the forms of the conspi- 
rators. 

“ When I command, we fire ! ” whispered Con- 
rad. 

So close were they now that the persons seated 
in the coach could be recognized. The man sit- 
ting on the right was Napoleon. But who was 
the young man with the fine but downcast face ? 

“ Stop,” whispered Alfred. “ Do not shoot, 
brother ! He is no Frenchman ! He is a German 
prince, the brother of the King of Prussia! We 
cannot fire ! ” 

“ No, we must not fire at the brother of the un- 
fortunate King of Prussia I ” murmured Conrad, 
lowering his arm. As the carriage passed by, the 
conspirators could distinctly hear the words of 
Napoleon and his companion. “ A fine, fragrant 
forest,” said the former, in his sonorous voice, 
“just the thing for German poets and dreamers. 
For I suppose, prince, the Germans like to dream ? ” 

“ Sire,” said Prince William, mournfully, “ I be- 
lieve your majesty has at last disturbed them in 
their visionary musing?.” 

Napoleon burst into laughter, whicli resounded 
through the forest, and startled the pale men 
standing behind the trees, and gazing gloomily 
after him. He chatted gayly beside Prince Wil- 
liam, without suspecting that he, the brother of 
the King of Prussia, whom Napoleon had hum- 
bled so often and so grievously, had just saved his 
life. 

“We have failed again,” said Alfred, when the 
noise of the wheels was dying away in the dis- 
tance. “The last day is nearly gone. Wliat 
shall we reply to the brethren when they ask us 
how we have carried out the order which our 
country sent us ? What shall we reply when they 
call us to account ? ” 

“We shall teU them that Heaven refused to 


188 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


allow the sacred cause of Germany to he dese- 
crated by murder ! ” exclaimed Conrad, gravely ; 
“that, faithful to our obligation, although with 
.reluctant hearts, Ave tried to accomplish our mis- 
sion, but that we were restrained and our strength 
was paralyzed. You will tell them so, brother — 
you alone. Tell them that I was not forgetful of 
the oath I took on the day I joined the league. 
Having been unable to obey, I die ! Farewell, 
brother ! ” A shot reechoed in the silent forest. 

Not long after, a man, with livid cheeks and wild 
eyes, might have been seen hastening across the 
distant heath on the other side of the woods. As 
he ran he whispered,^ “ Unhappy Germany ! ” 
These were the last words of his companion Con- 
rad, who lay dead on the fallen leaves. 

Two days after their return from Weimar, on 
the 10th of October, the emperors signed the 
treaty about which they had agreed, and in which 


Romanzoff had been obliged to acquiesce. France 
consented in this treaty that Russia should take 
possession of Moldavia and Wallachia. Russia 
also agreed to whatever changes Napoleon had 
made, and would hereafter make, in regard to the 
government of Spain, and engaged to assist him 
in a war against Austria. 

On the 14th of October they left EiTurt, and 
returned to their states. The object of their 
meeting had been attained ; both had derived 
benefit from it. Alexander had gained Moldavia 
and Wallachia ; Napoleon, a powerful friend and 
ally. Europe received tremblingly the news of 
this alliance of the West and the East. What 
hopes remained to Germany ! — to that dismem- 
bered country, over whose battle-fields Russia 
and France had joined hands and concerted meas- 
ures against the most powerful of its states — 
Austria I 


BOOK 


YI. 

4 — 


CHAPTER XLiy. 

THE WAR WITH AUSTRIA. 

Napoleon, in ill-humor, was pacing his cabinet, 
while Minister Champagny was standing at the 
large desk, covered with papers and maps, where 
he was engaged in folding and arranging several 
documents. 

“ They are bent on having war, those insolent 
Austrians,” said Napoleon, after a pause, “ and 
they want it now, because they believe that I am 
not prepared for it. What an unheard-of pre- 
sumption, to arrest my couriers, and take their 
papers from them ! And now that I am taking 
reprisals — that I on my part have issued orders 
to arrest their couriers on all highways, and in 
all cities, and to take their papers from them, the 
Austrians are raising a hue-and-cry about the vio- 
lation of international law ; and if war should 
break out, the blame, as usual, will be laid at my 
door ! ” He paused, but added immediately : 

“ I wished to remain at peace with Germany 
for the present, for I have enough to do with 
those wretched Spaniards, who are rising against 
my troops like a vast band of guerillas. But that 
is just what is giving the Austrians courage. They 
believe me to be weakened, isolated, and unable 
to wage war with any other power, and hence the 
cowards take heart, and think they can obtain 
spoils from the lion. But, patience ! the lion re- 
tains his former strength and vigor, and will final- 
ly destroy his enemies. Champagny, I suppose 
you have already sent the Austrian ambassador 
his passports ? ” 

“ Yes, sire. Count Metternich has departed with 
all the members of his legation.” 

“ Yery well ; let him go to Vienna and announce 
my speedy arrival to the Emperor Francis,” ex- 
claimed Napoleon, impatiently. 

“ Sire, Count Metternich will meet the em- 


peror no longer in Vienna,” said Champagny, 
calmly. 

“ No longer in Vienna ! ” exclaimed Napoleon, 
laughing scornfully. “Does Francis II. suspect 
already that I am about to come, and has he 
taken to his heels even before I have left Paris ? ” 

“ No, sire ; it seems, on the contrary, that the 
Emperor Francis intends to put himself at the 
head of his troops.” 

Napoleon burst into a loud laugh. “The Aus- 
trians, then, believe my soldiers to be sparrows, 
and think they can drive them out by setting up 
a scarecrow ! If the Emperor Francis himself in- 
tends to command, he will command the army 
only to retreat, for the word ‘ forward ’ is not to 
be found in his dictionary. ^..lave you looked 
over the dispatches from Germany, and can you 
report to me what they contain ? ” 

“I am ready, sire,” said Champagny, glancing 
at 'the papers. 

“ Then commence,” ordered the emperor, 
sitting down, and taking from the table a pen- 
knife, with which he whittled the back of the 
chair. 

“ The four corps of the Austrian army, with the 
two reserve corps, moved on the first of April 
toward the frontier of Bavaria,” said Champagny. 

“ As soon as they cross the Inn and enter the 
/territory of my ally, war will break out,” ex- 
claimed Napoleon. “ Proceed ! ” 

“ On the evening of the 9th of April, the Arch- 
duke Charles and his brother, the emperor, ar- 
rived with the army at Linz. Thence he sent one 
of his adjutants to the King of Bavaria, to whom 
was to be delivered an autograph letter, in which 
the archduke announced to the king that he had 
received orders to advance, and would regard and 
treat as enemies all that would resist his progress, 
no matter whether they were German or foreign 
troops.” 

“ Why, that is a regular declaration of war,” 


190 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


said the emperor, piercing the velvet cushion of 
the chair with his penknife. 

“ Yes, sire, it is,” said Champagny, taking up 
another paper. “We have received, moreover, 
a copy of the war manifesto which the Emperor 
of Austria has published in the Vienna Court 
Gazette^ and which was drawn up by Gentz, the 
well-known pamphleteer.” 

“ Gentz ! ” ejaculated Napoleon. “ Do not those 
warlike Austrians see that that is their death- 
knell, and that it is a bad omen for them that 
Gentz hud to blow the war-trumpet ? Is it not 
the same Gentz who drew up the high-sounding 
manifesto for the King of Prussia, previous to the 
battle of Jena ? ” 

“ Yes, sire, the same.” 

“Well, that was in 1806; the six has been 
transformed into a nine — that is all the differ- 
ence,” exclaimed Napoleon. “Every thing else 
has remained unchanged. I suppose the same 
language of self-reliance^ of a wounded sense of 
honor, and of noble patriotism, is to be found in 
the manifesto of 1809 as in that of 1806 ? Oh, I 
know it ! Those Germans ever remain the same ; 
they always believe their cause just ; they always 
want peace, and find war, without any fault of 
theirs. Those Austrians have irritated me for 
about a year past ; they have secretly armed dur- 
ing that time. The busier they believed me to be 
in Spain, the more energetically they continued 
their preparations ; and whenever I had them 
questioned about their motives and objects, they 
made evasive and unsatisfactory replies. The 
natural consequence of all this was, that I moved 
my troops toward the German frontier ; that Da- 
voust, Lannes, and Massena, with three corps, 
had to approach Austria, and hold themselves in 
readiness to cross its boundaries when the Aus- 
trians enter Bavarian territory ; and that, finally, 
I issued orders to the princes of the Confedera- 
tion of the Rhine to plaee their federal quota on 
a war-footing, and prepare for the outbreak of 
hostilities. No sooner had this been done, than 
the Austrians arrested my courier contrary to in- 
ternational law, and compelled me to retaliate. 
Nevertheless, I suppose, they are entirely inno- 
cent now, and the manifesto of the Emperor 
Francis proves clearly that France, by her inces- 
sant insults and encroachments, by her insatiable 
thirst after new territories, and by her boundless 
ambition, compelled Austria to take up arms. Is 
it not so ? ” 

“Yes, sire, it is so. There are at the conelu- 
sion of this manifesto words and ideas that are 
almost identical with those your majesty uttered 
just now.” 


“ Read this conclusion,” said Napoleon, leaning 
back in his chair. 

Champagny read : “ The Emperor Francis will 
never deem himself authorized to meddle with the 
domestic affairs of foreign states, or to arrogate to 
himself a controlling influence on their system of 
government, on their legislative and administra- 
tive affairs, or on the development of their mil- 
itary strength. He demands a just reciprocity. 
Far from being actuated by motives of ambition 
or jealousy, the emperor will envy no other sov- 
ereign his greatness, his glory, his legitimate in- 
fluence ; the exclusive assumption of such advan- 
tages alone is the source of general apprehensions 
and the germ of everlasting wars. Not France, 
in the preservation and welfare of which his ma- 
jesty will always take the liveliest interest, but 
the uninterrupted extension of a system which, 
under the name of the French Empire, acknowl- 
edges no other law in Europe than its own, has 
brought about the present confusion ; it will be 
removed, and all the wishes of his majesty will be 
fulfilled, when that exclusive system will be re- 
placed by one of moderation, self-restraint, the 
reciprocal independence of all the states, respect 
for the rights of every power, the sacred obser- 
vance of treaties, and the supremacy of peace. 
Then alone can the Austrian monarchy and the 
whole political fabric of Europe be maintained in 
a prosperous condition.” 

“ Enough ! ” exclaimed Napoleon, rising from 
his chair, and throwing the penknife into a dis- 
tant corner of the room. “ I shall pay Austria for 
this insolence, and there will be a day when the 
Emperor Francis and his scribbler Gentz will re- 
pent of this miserable pamphlet ! I will have to 
treat the former as I have treated the kings of 
Naples and Spain. The house of the Hapsburgs 
must cease to reign. Or if, in my patience, I 
should allow the imperial throne of Austria to ex- 
ist further under their rule, it shall not be occu- 
pied by this dull and obstinate man, but by his 
brother, the Elector of Wurzburg ! * But woe to 
this M. Gentz, who has dared to irritate me anew ! 
Once already I gave orders to arrest and punish 
him. He succeeded in making his escape. My 
police will be more cautious this time. When I 
have made my entry into Vienna, I shall remem- 
ber M. Gentz ! Ah, somebody is coming ! ” 

The door opened, and one of the imperial adju- 
tants entered. 

“ Sire,” he said, handing a sealed letter to Na- 

* After Napoleon had made his entry into Vienna, he 
really requested the Emperor Francis to abdicate in favor 
of the latter’s brother. The battle of Aspern prevented 
this plan from being carried into effect. 


THE WAR WITH AUSTRIA. 


191 


poleon, “ the director of the Paris telegraph-office 
has just brought this.” 

“ At last ! ” exclaimed Napoleon, seizing the 
letter, and then motioning him to leave the room. 

“ At last ! ” he repeated, breaking the seal. 
His eyes passed over the paper with an expres- 
sion of uncontrollable impatience. His coun- 
tenance brightened, and a faint blush came to his 
cheeks. He raised his eyes toward the minister. 
“ Champagny,” he said, in a joyful voice, “ war 
has commenced ; the Austrians have crossed the 
Inn and invaded the states of my ally the King 
of Bavaria. The decisive moment is at hand. I 
shall set out this very night. To-day is the 12th 
of April; on the lYth I shall be at Donauworth 
and put myself at the head of my army. Now let 
us go to work and make our dispositions. — ^What 
is the matter now ? ” 

The door opened again, and the court-marshal 
appeared on the threshold to announce dinner. 

Napoleon cast a hasty glance at the clock. “ In- 
deed, it is six o’clock ! ” he exclaimed. “ But I can- 
not go yet. Have every thing kept in readiness 
Tell the empress I wish she would wait for me in 
the dining-room. I will soon be with her. Send 
for the Prince de Benevento and the Duke 
d’Otranto. I want to see them immediately. Now 
come, Champagny,” he said, when the court-mar- 
shal had withdrawn; “let us go to work. We 
have a great many things to attend to, and there 
is but little time left, for, as I told you before, I 
will set out this very night.” 

Fifteen minutes afterward Talleyrand and 
Fouche entered the cabinet agreeably to the em- 
peror’s orders. They found him amid his maps, 
on which he marched the various armies by means 
of the colored pins which Champagny handed to 
him. 

“ Gentlemen,” exclaimed Napoleon, saluting 
the new-comers, “ the Austrians have commenced 
war ; come hither and see ! ” 

In the mean time the empress, according to the 
wishes of her consort, had repaired with her ladies 
of honor to the dining-room, and waited for the 
arrival of Napoleon. The dishes had already been 
served up ; for, owing to the hasty manner in 
which the emperor liked to dine, the various 
courses could not successively be brought from 
the kitchen, but had to be placed on the table be- 
fore dinner commenced. A number of silver 
warming-vessels, filled with hot water, always 
stood on the imperial table. Only the roast chick- 
en, which every day made the last course, and 
was one of the emperor’s favorite dishes, had re- 
mained in the kitchen ; it was still turning on the 
spit, and waiting for the moment when it was to 


be carried up. But this moment was delayed an 
unusually long time to-day. The first chicken 
had long ago been replaced by a second, a third, 
and a fourth, and this one had been roasting so 
much that it was tough and juiceless. It had not 
yet been called for. The waiters returned from 
time to time into the kitchen for boiling water, to 
fill anew the silver vessels on wffiich the dishes 
were kept warm. 

“ If that goes on in the same manner we shall 
depopulate the whole poultry-yard,” grumbled the 
chief cook, ordering a fresh half-dozen of young 
chickens to be brought in and prepared for roast- 
ing. 

The emperor did not come. The clock struck 
seven, eight, nine, and ten, and Napoleon had not 
yet made his appearance In the dining-room. But 
this long delay did not cause the least impatience 
or anger to appear on the face of the empress ; 
not for a single moment did she lose her temper. 
Graceful and gay, she conversed with her cava- 
liers and ladies of honor, and her eyes but occa- 
sionally glanced at the door by which Napoleon 
had to enter. 

At* last the emperor appeared. He walked 
toward the empress with a hasty nod, and offering 
her his hand to conduct her to the table, he said : 
“ I believe it is a little late. I have kept you wait- 
ing, I suppose ? ” 

Josephine laughed. “The question is rather 
naive, my friend,” she said ; “ I have been waiting 
ever since six o’clock, and it is now past eleven.” 

“Ah, that is late, indeed,” said the emperor 
abstractedly. “ I thought I had already dined ; 
Champagny, however, reminded me that this was 
not the case. Well, Josephine, let us eat ! ” And 
he commenced eating the soup which the grand- 
marshal placed before him. 

Thanks to the warmipg-vessels, the dishes had 
remained palatable ; but the chief , cook, when 
the gratifying announcement was made that the 
emperor had at length made his appearance, had 
just ordered the twenty-third chicken to be put on 
the spit for the purpose of having a juicy and 
freshly-roasted wing in readiness. 

The emperor, who was very reticent and ab- 
stracted, took his dinner even more rapidly than 
usual, and no sooner had he finished than he rose 
impetuously from his chair and left the table. 
Without addressing a word to the empress, he 
walked across the room. 

Josephine gazed after him wdth a long and 
mournful look, and her face was sad. “He is 
cruel,” she muttered to herself. “ After waiting 
many hours, he has scarcely a word for me, and 
leaves me without salutation ! ” 


192 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


But when Napoleon was near the door, he turned 
round and walked hastily toward the empress. 
“ Good-night, my dear Josephine,” he said, giving 
his hand to her. “ It is already late — ^near mid- 
night — retire. We shall not meet again to-day ; 
farewell, and au revoir I ” 

He nodded to her, and then left the room for 
his cabinet. On arriving there, he bolted the 
small door leading into the corridor, and thence 
into the apartments of the empress, calling in 
a loud voice, “ Constant ! ” The valet de cJiambre 
entered immediately. “ Constant ! ” said the em- 
peror,/ “ come hither close to me, and listen. You 
will quickly set in order my travelling-coach, so 
that I shall be able to set out in an hour. Roustan 
and you will accompany me — ^no one else. But 
yop must not say a word about my departure. 
I want it to be known at the Tuileries, as well as 
in Paris, to-morrow only, that I have left the cap- 
ital, and it is of the highest importance that it 
should remain a secret until then. Do you under- 
stand me ? And now make haste ! In an hour 
every thing must be ready ! ” 

Constant bowed in silence and withdrew. “ Yes, 
yes,” he murmured, while hastily passing on, “ I 
understood the emperor very well. His departure 
is to remain a secret; that is to say, especially 
for the empress. Ah ! the poor, good empress ! 
How she will weep when she hears to-morrow 
that the emperor has again set out without her ! 
Formerly he always took her with him ; she had 
to share the triumphs and troubles of the journey ; 
but now she must stay at home. Poor Josephine ! 
she is so good, and loves him intensely ! But I 
must obey the emperor’s order. I cannot tell her 
any thing ! I cannot, but it would be no fault of 
mine if some one else should ! Ah ! a good 
idea strikes me ! The empress had the gold trav- 
elling-case of the emperor brought to her yester- 
day in order to have one like it made for the vice- 
roy of Italy. I must go immediately and get it 
from her maid, and she is fortunately tenderly dc^ 
voted to the empress ! ” 


CHAPTEH XLV. 

I 

Josephine’s fakewell. 

The empress in the mean time had returned to 
her rooms, sad and absorbed in her reflections. 
She had dismissed her ladies of honor ; only her 
mistress of ceremonies, Madame de Remusat, was 
still with her, and her maids were in the adjoining 
room to await her orders until she retired. 


No sooner had Josephine reached her room 
than she sat down slowly and abstractedly, and, 
throwing back her head, fixed her eyes on the 
ceiling. An expression of profound grief was 
visible in her features, and darkened the shade 
with which age was veiling her countenance. 
When smiling, Josephine was still a graceful and 
fascinating woman, but when melancholy it was 
but too plainly to be seen that her charms were 
fading, and neither the fiatteiing rouge nor the 
skill of the artist could conceal this fact. 

Josephine’s brow was now often clouded, and 
her youthful beauty was fast losing its charms. 
Gloomy forebodings were constantly passing 
over her heart ; she felt that she was standing as 
on the brink of a precipice, and that the days of 
her happiness were numbered. She awoke every 
morning in terror, for before the evening she 
might be cast into an abyss of sorrow — removed 
from the Tuilleries and the side of her husband 
— replaced by another, a younger woman, the 
daughter of an ancient sovereign house, who was 
to become the wife of Napoleon and the mother 
of his sons. Josephine knew that the brothers 
and sisters of the emperor were constantly impor- 
tuning him to disown his childless wife, and to 
secure his throne and dynasty, as well as their 
own, by choosing another consort giving an heir 
to his crown. She knew that Talleyrand was rep- 
resenting this to him daily as a politieal necessity, 
without which his empire and his greatness would 
be endangered. She knew also that Napoleon 
no longer, as formerly, closed his ears against these 
insinuations, but, eagerly listening, held them in 
serious consideration. 

Josephine was aware of all this, and sat in 
her room a prey to well-grounded suspicion and 
sorrowful presentiments. 

Madame de Remusat looked at her awhile, sigh- 
ing and in silence ; she now softly approached the 
empress, and, taking her hand,- said in an affec- 
tionate voice, “ Your majesty ought to retire ! 
You need sleep; it is long past midnight, and 
your eyes are weary.” ' 

“Not from waking — from weeping, my dear 
Remusat,” said the empress, pressing the hand of 
her confidante. “ But you are right, I will retire. 
In sleep we forget our grief. Remusat, in my 
dreams I always see Napoleon as affectionate, as 
loving as he ever was — in my dreams he loves me 
still and looks at mo, not with the stern eyes of 
the emperor, but of a tender husband. When I 
awake, Remusat, his fine face still before my mind, 
and remember that his love is now gone and lost 
forever — oh, then a sword seems to pierce my 
heart, and I shed scalding tears in spite of myself! 


JOSEPHINE’S FAREWELL. 


10 ?. 


And yet I will retire. He commanded me, and I 
will obey.” 

“How discouraged your majesty is again to- 
day ! ” said Madame de R4musat, sighing. “ Still 
it seems to me there is less cause than ever. The 
emperor was more cordial and affectionate than 
usual. He was evidently abstracted, and occupied 
with important plans, and yet he returned ; his 
expression was unusually gentle, and his voice 
trembled when he bade farewell to your majesty.” 

“ But why did he bid me farewell ? ” exclaimed 
the empress. “ This is what fills me with anxiety. 
Heretofore he only said to me, ‘ Good-night ! ’ 
and, ‘ we shall meet again to-morrow, Josephine ! ’ 
But to-day he said, ‘ Farewell, and au revoir ! ’ 
Remusat, there was a hidden meaning in these 
words. Something unusual is to happen, for the 
emperor never took leave of me in this manner. 
*■ Au revoir !' You never say that to one whom 
you meet again in the morning. It means as- 
suredly something ! But you are right — I need 
repose, for my limbs are trembling, and my head 
is burning, as if I had fever ! Call my maids ! ” 

Josephine sighed deeply, and rose to be un- 
dressed. She was so absorbed in her reflections 
that she, who always addressed a pleasant word to 
her servants, did not apparently notice their pres- 
ence. In silence she allowed her jewels to be 
removed, w'hich Madame de Remusat carefully put 
away into their caskets; in silence she suffered 
herself to be divested of her blue satin dress, em- 
bfoidefed with silver, and her white satin under- 
skirt, without observing that her first maid was 
absent. "Wlien her wrapper was brought by the 
second maid, she noticed that the first was not 
present. 

“ Where is Dufour ? ” she asked, hesitatingly. 

“ Your majesty, she has just been called out to 
attend to something urgently required by his ma- 
jesty the emperor,” said the second maid, ap- 
proaching the empress. 

But Josephine pushed her back. “ To attend 
to something urgently required by the emperor ? ” 
she asked, breathlessly. “ What does that mean ? 
Ah, there is Dufour ! What could have detained 
her ? ” And she rushed toward her and grasped 
her hand. 

“ Dufour, where have you been ? What is the 
matter ? ” 

♦ 

“ Your majesty. Constant wished to see me. I 
beg pardon for coming so late, but it was some- 
thing very urgent.” 

“ Urgent ! There is the same word again,” 
exclaimed Josephine. “What was it that was 
‘ urgent ? ’ ” 

“Your majesty, M. Constant wanted the golden 
13 


travelling-case of the emperor, which your majesty 
showed to the jeweller to-day. As it was in my 
keeping, he applied to me for it.” 

“Well, could he not wait until to-morrow?” 
asked the empress. 

“No, your majesty, for the emperor needs the 
travelling- case, and at once.” 

Josephine uttered a cry. “ He is about to de- 
part ! Oh, I feel he is going to leave me ! ” she 
exclaimed, almost beside herself. And without 
refiecting and hesitating, regardless of the fact 
that she was undressed, her shoulders bare, and 
her feet incased in small slippers of crimson vel- 
vet — forgetful of every thing but the distracting 
thought that the emperor was leaving her, with- 
out even a farewell, she ran across the room 
toward the door. 

Vainly did Madame de Remusat try to detain 
her. Josephine pushed her aside, opened the 
door, and ran out. Breathless, bathed in tears, 
her dishevelled locks streaming in the air, she 
hastened through the rooms and magnificent haUs 
in which she was accustomed to appear in a gor- 
geous toilet, and receive the homage of princes, 
On crossing the threshold of the first reception- 
room she lost one of her slippers ; but this modem 
Atalanta did not know it as she rushed along the 
corridor and down the stairs. Having reached 
the palace-yard, she found that she was not mis- 
taken — ^there stood the emperor’s travelling-car- 
riage. Roustan and Constant were waiting in 
front of it, but she passed them before they knew 
what had happened. Trembling and weeping, she 
sat down in the carriage. 

The emperor at that moment entered the palace- 
yard, while the two servants were still standing 
near, speechless, and as if paralyzed with terror. 
He took no notice of them, and ascending the 
steps of the carriage beheld the strange white 
figure wdthin. 

“ What is that ? ” exclaimed the emperor, stand- 
ing still. “ Who is there ? ” 

“ It is I,” exclaimed the empress, in a suppliant 
voice. “I, Josephine! You wished to depart 
again without me, Bonaparte ; but I will not suffer 
you ; I will cling to you 1 I cannot leave you 1 ” 

She threw her arms around his neck, but Na- 
poleon pushed her back. “ You are a fool, Jose- 
phine 1 ” he said, angrily. “ T^is is childish ; you* 
ridiculously retard my departure. I do not wish 
to hear any more ! Be kind enough to leave the 
carriage I It is necessary that I set out imme- 
diately.” 

“ But, Bonaparte, you cannot be in earnest,” 
cried Josephine, sobbing aloud. “Have mercy 
on me ! Do not drive me from you 1 1 tell you. 


194 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA, 


you must use violence to remove me ! Oh, have 
pity on me — on my poor, painful heart, and let 
me go along with you ! Remember that you prom- 
ised me the other day that I should accompany 
you on your next journey. Oh, Bonaparte, keep 
your word ! Keep your word only this time ! 
Have pity on me, and let me accompany you ! ” 
She covered his lips and cheeks with her kisses 
and tears. Napoleon’s heart seemed to be soft- 
ened, for he involuntarily raised his arms and 
wound them around Josephine’s neck. “How 
cold you are ! ” he exclaimed. “ And your shoul- 
ders are bare ! What does this mean ? ” 

“ It means,” said the empress, half laughing, 
naif weeping, “ that I was just about retiring 
when — when I heard the carriage drive up to 
the door. My heart told me that you intended 
to leave me, and that I would not have time to 
dress if I wished to see you, and therefore I came 
at once.” 

“ And indeed you were right ; if you had come 
a minute later, I would certainly have been 
gone.” 

The emperor entered the carriage, closed the 
door, and shouted in a powerful voice out of the 
window : “ Have every thing the empress needs 
for her toilet sent to the first station, that she 
may find it on her arrival. Order the mistress 
of ceremonies to set out immediately with her ma- 
jesty’s ladies of honor. They must be at Stras- 
burg on the 18th. Forward ! ” 

Josephine uttered a joyous cry, and sat down 
on the emperor’s knees, pressing his head with 
her arms against her bosom. He laughed, and 
did not resist her. Roustan and Constant as- 
cended, and the carriage started. 

“Bonaparte, thanks! a thousand thanks!” 
whispered the empress. “Never shall I forget 
this hour, for it proves to me that you still love 
your poor Josephine, or that at least you pity 
he? ! ” 

“ Oh, you know full well, traitress, that I can- 
not withstand your tears,” said Napoleon, half 
angrily, half smilingly. “But you are almost 
naked ! ” 

“ Yes, I am naked, as it behooves a beggar- 
woman who begs for love at the palace-gate,” 
said the empress, smiling. “ I hope, my emperor 
an4 lord will give me something to cover my na- 
kedness.” 

■ “ Here is what you want, you impulsive beg- 
gar !” exclaimed Napoleon, throwing the sable 
robe, which the Emperor Alexander had presented 
to him, over her shoulders, and wrapping it care- 
fully around her. 

“Accept my thanks!” exclaimed Josephine, 


laughing; “I will wear it as a token of your 
kindness.” 

“ You will not,” quickly replied Napoleon. “I 
merely lend it to you until our arrival at the next 
station, where, I hope, we shall meet a courier 
with your wardrobe.” 

“ But he will not be able to overtake us there, 
Bonaparte, and you will have to leave me the robe 
for some time yet.” 

“ No ; he will travel faster on horseback than 
we in our carriage. I would have no objection to 
the robe myself, for the night is cold ! ” 

“ It is cold ; come, I will let you have part of 
it,” wrapping it around the emperor, and clinging 
closely to him. Napoleon laughed, and winding 
his arms around the slender waist of Josephine, 
pressed her to his breast. She laid her wearied 
head silently on his shoulder. The carriage con- 
tinued the journey without interruption, and, ex- 
hausted by her previous excitement, she closed 
her eyes and slept. 

Suddenly the voice of the emperor aroused her. 
They had reached the first station ; it w'as already 
daylight. The municipal ofiScers of the small 
town were standing in front of the post-oflSce to 
present their respects. A' man, mounted on a 
horse covered with foam, was near them. 'It was 
the courier who had brought the wardrobe of the 
empress. 

“ There is your luggage,” said the emperor, 
pointing smilingly at a small leather trunk which 
had been placed on the back seat. “ The empress 
has set out as a travelling adventurer ! ” 

“Yes, you are right,” exclaimed Josephine. 
“ It is just like a fairy-story. Some poor, dis- 
owned princess is met on her journey by a hand- 
some son of a king, who takes her in his arms, 
gives her magnificent dresses, and marries her. 

I thank you, my friend, and now I will attend to 
my toilet.” 

“ I hope not here in the carriage ? ” asked Na- 
poleon, in surprise. “We shall have the trunk 
carried into the house ; I believe the postmaster 
has a room where you can dress, and a servant- 
girl who can assist you.” 

“But, Bonaparte,” exclaimed Josephine, “do 
you not see that that is impossible ? It is day- 
light ; is, then, the carriage to open and the em- 
press to alight with one slipper on her feet, to be 
triumphantly conducted into the house? Ah, 
my friend, all Europe would smile at the idyllic 
empress who accompanied her husband on his 
journey in such a dishabille.” 

“ It is true,” said Napoleon, moodily, “ it would 
be a fine anecdote for the so-called legitimate 
princes, and they would proudly laugh at the vio- 


JOSEPHINE’S FAREWELL. 


195 


lation of the dehors committed by imperial up- 
starts. As though it were so dijfficult to learn 
the ridiculous rules of their etiquette, if one should 
deem it worth while ! ” 

Josephine gently patted the emperor’s fore- 
head with her white hand. “No clouds must 
darken my morning sun,” she said, “ for they 
would foretell a gloomy day. I wish you could 
transform yourself into my maid ! ” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed the emperor, laughing. 
“ Transform myself into your maid ? ” 

“ And why not, Bonaparte ? ” asked Josephine. 
“ Did not your brother, the great Jove, transform 
himself into an ox for the sake of Europa ? The 
carriage is moving again ! Draw the curtains, 
and then, my dear maid, we shall commence 
dressing.” She hastily opened the small travel- 
ling-trunk, which had carefully been filled with 
every thing required for her toilet — small velvet 
gaiters, a comfortable velvet cloak, one of her 
large cashmere shawls, and a beautiful red satin 
dress with lace trimmings. 

“You will have but little trouble with me,” 
said the empress, busily examining the contents 
of the trunk. “ Dear Madame Remusat has ar- 
ranged every thing as judiciously as possible, and 
forgotten nothing. There are warm gloves, em- 
broidered handkerchiefs — in short, all I need. 
Ah ! there is but one thing she has forgotten.” 

“ Well, and what is that ?” 

“ It is a mirror. Bonaparte, you must be my 
mirror to-day. But come now, my dear maid ! 
enter upon your duties. In the first place, assist 
me in putting on my gaiters.” 

“ What admirable ones they are ! ” said the em- 
peror. “Are these tiny things really large enough 
for your feet ? ” 

“Yes. Did you forget that your Josephine 
has the smallest and prettiest foot in all France ? 
Formerly, when you were not the ali-powerful 
Napoleon, but the brave and illustrious General 
Bonaparte, you knew it. Ah, I wish you were 
still General Bonaparte, and we lived at our small 
house in the Rue Chantereine ! ” 

“Indeed, I am glad that I am no longer there,” 
said Napoleon. “ It seems to me General Bona- 
parte did not forfeit his glory ; he only changed 
his title and position. That of an emperor is not so 
bad, and the Tuileries a very pleasant residence. 
But, Josephine, let me see whether this fairy-shoe 
is really large enough for human foot ! ” 

“Bonaparte, envy and jealousy prompt you to 
say so,” said Josephine, laughing. “ You cannot 
comprehend how any foot could be even smaller 
than yours. But just take into consideration 
that you are the great Bonaparte, and that I am 


but poor little Josephine — the insignificant crea 
ture that derives only from you light and life. 
Bonaparte, you have the largest foot that man ever 
had.” 

“What ! I have the largest foot? ” exclaimed 
Napoleon, in surprise. “Why, I have always been 
told that my foot was very small.” 

“ Oh, that was a mistake,” said Josephine, 
gravely, “ for how would it otherwise be possible 
for you to trample down the whole of Eurojm as 
you are doing ? ” 

Napoleon laughed. “Very good,” he said, 
“ you are right ; I have put my foot on the neck 
of Europe, and shall crush all who resist me ! ” 

“ Bonaparte,” exclaimed Josephine, menacingly, 
“ no pohtics now, no threatening imperial face ! 
Remember that, at the present moment, you are 
nothing but my maid. There is my foot ! Put on 
my gaiter, and see whether it is large enough ! ” 

Napoleon at once obeyed, his wife’s toilet com- 
menced, and the first day of their journey passed 
in laughter and affectionate chatting. The empress 
had not enjoyed so happy a day for years. All 
cares and apprehensions were forgotten. What 
did light-hearted Josephine care for the future ? 

But, alas ! the second day was different. The 
smiles of the unfortunate woman met with no 
reply. The emperor was taciturn and gloomy. 
Wrapped in his sable robe, he was leaning in a 
corner of the carriage, and made only stern and 
brief answers to Josephine’s questions. The 
heart and countenance of the empress grew heavy 
and anxious. 

When they arrived at Strasburg on the evening 
of the fourth day, each of them sat silent — the 
empress with tearful eye; the emperor frown- 
ing and stern. Napoleon offered his arm to his 
consort, and conducted her into the palace. 
“ Good-night, Josephine,” he said, standing still 
at the entrance of the rooms destined for her, 
“ good-night ! ” 

“ You will not take supper with me ? ” asked 
the empress, in a low, imploring voice. 

“No, I have business to attend to. Good- 
night ! ” And he walked away without saluting 
or even looking at her. Josephine went into her 
rooms. She refused to partake of refreshment, 
and avoided the necessity of admitting the officials, 
who wished to pay their respects to her, by send- 
ing them word that she w'as too fatigued to re- 
ceive any one. Alone she could weep without 
being disturbed. 

At an unusually early hour on the following 
morning Napoleon entered her room. Josephine 
was just about to dress, assisted by her Parisian 
maids. He motioned them to withdraw, and then 


196 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


commenced pacing the room in his usual manner, 
when excited. 

“Napoleon,” said Josephine, in a tremulous 
voice, “ you have come with bad news. My heart 
tells me so, and I read it on your gloomy brow. 
Speak, and tell me every thing at once. I am 
prepared for it.” 

“ Well, then, I must say,” replied Napoleon, 
vehemently, — “you cannot, Josephine, accom- 
pany me farther. W e must part this hour. I 
yielded to your wishes in spite of myself, but 
only thus far ! A new campaign is about to 
begin ; days of battles, troubles, and fatigues, are 
awaiting me. You must not and cannot share 
them. You must remain here.” 

Josephine cast a melancholy look on him. 
“ But when you have eonquered, when you have 
made again your triumphant entry into Vienna, 
will you then call me, Napoleon? Shall I then 
share your triumphs as I used to do ? Bonaparte, 
do not now make an evasive reply ! Tell me the 
truth, for I can bear it. Tell me, when the for- 
tune of war has favored you — when you have van- 
quished Austria, as you have hitherto every other 
enemy — will you then call me to you ? The truth, 
my friend, the truth ! ” 

“Very well, I will tell you the truth,” exclaim- 
ed Napoleon, after a brief hesitation. “ No, Jose- 
phine — I will not. You can share my triumphs 
no more ! ” 

Josephine uttered a cry, and her eyes filled 
with tears. “ I am doomed, then,” she said, “ and 
what Fouchd told me was true ! ” 

“ What did he tell you ? ” asked the emperor, 
hastily. 

“ He told me to prepare for a heavy blow — that 
you, Napoleon, had secretly applied to the Em- 
peror Alexander for the hand of his sister, and 
that only the resistance of the dowager prevented 
you from accomplishing your purpose.” 

“Yes,” exclaimed Napoleon, moodily, and, as 
if absent-minded, “ yes, the proud empress-dow- 
ager hates me, and hastened to marry her daugh- 
ter to a petty German prince rather than let 
her become the consort of the Emperor of the 
French.* Well, no matter ! other princes have 


* Napoleon ordered Talleyrand at Erfurt to inquire of 
the Emperor Alexander •whether he "would permit him to 
marry his sister. Alexander replied that nothing could 
afford him greater pleasure than that Napoleon should 
become his hi*other-in-law, but the matter did not depend 
on his decision alone. The empress-dowager must also 
be consulted. No sooner had she heard of Napoleon’s 
•wishes than she induced her daughter to marry the Duke 
of Oldenburg. The notification of the marriage of the 
grand-duchess to this German prince "was the only reply 
that was ever made to Napoleon's inquiring ■wish. 


daughters, too, and one of them will assuredly 
be only too happy to become my wife ! ” 

“ Napoleon, and you dare tell me so ? ” ex- 
claimed Josephine, reproachfully. “You admit, 
then, that you are about to disown me ? ” 

The emperor started. “ Pardon me, Josephine,” 
he said, in confusion, “ I was absent-minded, I — ” 

“ Yes, you were,” interrupted the empress, “ and 
while so, you betrayed your thoughts. It is true, 
then! Cruel man! You have forgotten every 
thing, and the whole past has been blotted out. 
You can seriously think of parting with me, your 
best friend ? ” 

“ No, not now, Josephine,” exclaimed Napoleon. 
“You have nothing to fear. I shall not enter 
Germany as a wooer, but as a soldier, and I do 
not desire to seek myrtle-crowns, but laurels ! ” 

“ But, my husband, when you have gained fresh 
laurels and new territories with the blood of your 
soldiers, then, I suppose, Josephine is to be sac- 
rificed ? ” 

Napoleon did not reply. He paced the room 
slowly and with a bowed head. Standing still, 
he looked with sad eyes in his consort’s tearful 
face. 

“Josephine,” he said, in a grave voice, “you 
have a noble heart, and it will bear the truth. 
Yes, there may be a day when we shall have to 
part, although I love you, and I know well that 
you are the only faithful friend on whom I can re- 
ly ! Judge, therefore, what pangs it will cost me 
when obliged to come to the terrible resolution to 
separate from you, my guardian angel ! But I be- 
long to my people — I belong to my glory ! My 
power has assumed such gigantic proportions th^,t 
I must support it with foundations that cannot be 
overthrown. The Emperor Napoleon must have 
a successor; if you had given birth to one, I 
should never have parted from you. Now all 
hope is goue, and I shall, perhaps, be compelled 
one day to look for a consort among the daughters 
of kings. I really do not wish to do so, but my 
duty to my people makes it imperative.” 

“ No, not your duty, but your ambition ! ” cried 
Josephine, with streaming eyes. “You have 
sacrificed every thing for that — your tranquillity, 
your conscience, the blood of your soldiers, and 
now your wife ! ” 

“Yes, it is as you say, Josephine,” exclaimed 
Napoleon ; “ it is my ambition that separates me 
from you, and compels me to part with her who 
has been ray glory and my life for sixteen yeare ! 
It is ambition that points its iron arm at my 
imperial crown, and commands mfe to look for 
another empress, that I and my sou may enter the 
ranks of legitimate princes. I have formed vast 


FERDINAND VON SCHILL. 


197 


plans ; I shall soon effect new convulsions : I shall 
vanquish all my enemies, and Europe will have to 
recognize me as her master. But vyhen nothing 
remains to wish for — when I have so ascended as 
to leave no heights above me, then I shall think 
of securing the happiness and peace of my peo- 
ple and of my empire. To do so, I am in need 
of a direct heir. For myself, I ask and wish for 
nothing ; but my glory belongs to France. After 
my death my contemporaries will say of me, ‘ He 
was the only one who could strive for universal 
good, while his individual wishes had been grati- 
fied ; others thought only of themselves — Bona- 
parte’s wishes and deeds were for his country. 
There was one thing that was dear to him person- 
ally, and that was his wife ! But the welfare of 
his people requiring it, he. sacrificed this beloved 
wife to their interests.’ ” 

“Words!” exclaimed Josephine. “You are 
vainly trying to conceal your innermost thoughts 
from me. I know you, Bonaparte, and can read 
your soul! You wish to connect yourself with 
the foremost sovereign houses of Europe, because 
such a union will flatter your pride and your in- 
satiable ambition. When you are the son-in-law 
of an emperor or a king, you will believe that you 
are at liberty to do every thing with impunity. 
You will deem yourself a demigod, and, accom- 
panied by your victorious legions, you will march 
to the conquest of the whole world. But that 
will not be your destiny. You believe you can 
enslave the nations. Beware lest they one day 
.awake, break their chains, and take a terrible 
revenge on the tyrant whom they allowed so long 
to oppress them ! Seduced by your illusive am- 
bition, you will disown Josephine ? Infatuated 
man ! you will perceive too late that you walk 
near a volcano. Oh, Bonaparte, I tremble and 
weep for you ! Remember that you have often 
called me your guardian angel. Believe me, when 
you disown me, you disown your good fortune. 
It will forsake the faithless man, and your star 
will sink in an eternal night! That is what 
wounds my heart, and drives me to despair. You 
will be ’ alone in the midst of traitors and false 
friends. When Josephine is with you no more, 
no one will have good intentions toward you. No 
one will dare tell you the truth, when you lose 
your best friend. Falsehood will flatter you, but 
only to lead you to the verge of the precipice ! ” 
The empress, with quivering limbs and pale fea- 
tures, sank on a chair, and covered her face. 

1a long pause ensued. Napoleon gloomily con- 
tinued walking the room. At last he approached 
Josephine, and gently laid his hand on her shoul-' 
der. “Do not weep,” he said, imploringly. 


“We have once more allowed phantoms to 
frighten us, and quarrelled about things that be- 
long to the future. You are still my wife, and 
who knows whether you will not always remain 
mine ? Who knows whether you will not soon 
be my widow ? I am about to enter into another 
war, and it will be a desperate, obstinate strug- 
gle, in which old Austria will try to wrest the 
palm of victory from young France. Victory 
will perch on my banners. I have no doubt of 
that, but who knows whether I shall not have to 
pay for it with my blood ! for I must not spare 
myself — I shall always be at the head of my 
troops, and, like my private soldiers, with them 
bare my own breast to the hail of bullets. In 
so decisive a struggle as will take place now, 
the emperor will be nothing but a soldier, and do 
his duty.” 

“Oh, Bonaparte!” cried Josephine, rising in 
dismay and clinging to him, “ oh, have mercy on 
my heart ! Do not rashly expose yourself to the 
accidents of battle ! Remember that the fate of 
millions depends on your life ! Remember that I 
should die if an accident befall you! Oh, my 
dearest husband, be kind and generous — spare, 
yourself, and spare my love ! ” 

“ Then you love me in. spite of your gloomy 
forebodings ? ” asked Napoleon, with a gentle 
smile. “ Oh, I know my Josephine is my most 
faithful and best fi'iend, and whatever may hap- 
pen, her heart will always be mine. Let this be 
our farewell, Josephine ! I must go ; I must de- 
part this very hour. To-morrow I join my army, 
and my cannon will soon announce to Germany 
that the victor of Austerlitz and Jena is demon- 
strating his right to rule, and at his own pleas- 
ure to destroy or create kingdoms.” 


CHAPTER XLYI. 

FERDINAND VON SCHILL. 

A TRAVELLING Carriage stopped in front of the 
house on Frederick Street in which Major von 
Schill had established his headquarters since his 
regiment had been sent to Berlin. The horses 
were wet with perspiration, and the carriage was 
covered with mud. Every thing indicated that the 
young man seated in it had made a long and hur- 
ried journey, and his exhausted and anxious face 
Induced the belief that the object could not but 
be highly important. He alighted hastily, and 
approached the house, in front of which a crowd 
of idlers were staring at the windows. Address* 


198 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


ing one of tbem, he asked, “ Can you tell me 
whether Major von Schill lives in this house ? ” 

“Yes,” said the man, proudly; “every good 
citizen of Berlin can tell you that Major Ferdi- 
nand von Schill, the favorite of our people and 
of all patriotic Germans, lives here.” 

The young man smiled. “And can you tell 
me whether Major von Schill is at home ? ” 

“ Well, w'hat should we stand here for, if Schill 
were not at home ? We are only here to see and 
salute him when he appears at the window, and 
to escort him when he leaves the house. He is 
always surrounded by a guard of honor, com- 
posed of citizens of Berlin, and the cheers never 
cease wherever he may be. I myself have not 
yet seen him, for I was ill. But yesterday was 
my birthday, and my wife presented me with a 
pipe-bowl with Schill’s portrait; my daughter 
says he is the best-looking man in the world, and 
she has bought a locket with his portrait, which 
she is wearing on her neck. I have come to see 
whether the portraits so much in vogue are like 
him, and whether he is not only the bravest sol- 
dier, but, as the girls pretend, the finest-looking 
man. I will cheer so vigorously as to shake the 
statues on the arsenal. I suppose you have also 
come to see him ? ” 

“ That is all I have, come for,” said the young 
man, and, turning to the postilion, who had just 
unhitched his horses, he shouted : 

“Postilion, when you arrive at the post-oflSce, 
order immediately some fresh horses for me and 
send them hither. I shall set out for home in 
half an hour ! ” 

He then walked toward the house, elbowing 
himself through the constantly increasing crowd, 
and reached the door. After rapidly crossing 
the hall, he went up-stairs. A footman, dressed 
in a rich livery, who was pacing the corridor on 
the upper floor, looked inquiringly at the young 
stranger. v 

“ Does Major Schill live here ? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ And is he at home ? ” 

“ I am not quite sure — I rather believe he has 
gone out. He is subjected to visits and invita- 
tions to such an extent, that I really do not know 
whether there are persons with him at present, 
or whether some of his admirers have taken him 
to another banquet to be given in his honor. 
The people of Berlin are perfectly infatuated with 
my master, and if an angel should appear upon 
earth, they could not pay more deference to him. 
The fuss they are making about him has posi- 
tively made him ill. Day and night he must at- 
tend parties, listen, and reply to a thousand 


speeches, and take wine with everybody ; and then, 
again, the ladies are not the least active in de- 
monstrating his popularity. Oh, the people of this 
city will certainly kill my dear, good master in 
this way, and I must see to it that he gets occa- 
sionally a little rest, and is able to take a peace- 
ful nap on his sofa. I think I must tell you now, 
sir, that Major von Schill is not at home. He re- 
turned only at daybreak from a ball which the 
city of Berlin gave in his honor ; at noon he will 
have to attend a banquet to which the governor 
of Berlin, General von Lestocq, has invited him, 
and which is in fact another testimonial of the 
public respect for him. Major von Schill must 
have some repose, or his popularity will be the j 
death of him. Please return some other time. 
You cannot see him to-day.” 

“But, my friend, I cannot return,” said the 
stranger. “ I am not one of the citizens of Ber- 
lin, but I am ail enthusiastic admirer of Schill, 
and have travelled three days and nights without 
interruption, in order to bring important news to 
him.” 

“ All, that alters the case ; ” said the footman. 

“ If you bring important news for my master, I 
will go and see whether he is at home.” 

“Do so, my friend, and tell the major that 
Referendary von Bothmar has come from Cassel 
expressly to see him.” 

The footman nodded, and hastened into the 
room, the door of which he had hitherto guarded 
with the affection of a friend and the obstinacy 
of a faithful sentinel. He returned in a few min- 
utes, opened the door, and exclaimed : “ The 
major requests you to come in ! ” 

M. von Bothmar entered. In obedience to the 
sign the footman made to him, he crossed the 
anteroom and opened tlie door of the one adjoin- 
ing. A fine-looking man in the uniform of a 
major, with a fresh, florid countenance, and high 
forehead adorned with a broad scar, came to meet 
him. It was Ferdinand von Schill, the heutenaiit 
of the queen’s dragoons, who, ever since the disas- 
trous battle of Jena, had given such brilliant proofs 
of his courage and patriotism at Kolberg (and dur- 
ing the guerilla warfare he had afterward entered 
into on his own responsibility), that the people 
hoped he would become the savior of the country. 

The King of Prussia had promoted him to a 
majority, and conferred on his regiment the hon- 
orary distinction that it should be the. first Prus- 
sian regiment that was to make its ' .entry into 
Berlia after the French had evacuated.the ca»- 
ital. ^ 

“ Let me welcome you, my dear sir,” said Schill, 
kindly offering his hand to the young man. “ You 


FERDINAND VON SCHILL. 


190 ' 


told my footman you had come from Cassel to 
bring important news to me. You are, therefore, 
a good German patriot, and I may greet M. von 
Bothmar as a friend and brother. But let me 
hear what you bring— glad tidings, I suppose ? ” 

“No, major, but important,” said M. von Both- 
mar. 

Schill became uneasy, and a deep blush crim- 
soned his cheeks for a moment. “ You know 
Ddrnberg ? ” he inquired. 

“ I know him, and I was also aware of his plan, 
and of the day and hour when his blow was to be 
struck.” 

“ Then he has commenced already ? ” asked 
Schill. 

“ Yes, commenced and ended,” said Bothmar, 
mournfully. “Our noble Dornberg expected too 
much of the patriotism of the Hessians. He 
arrived with the legion of his peasants as far as 
Cassel, and called upon the soldiers to join him 
in order to expel King Jerome and his French 
minions. But the soldiers did not listen to him ; 
they obeyed the orders of their officers, and turned 
their arms against their German brethren, who 
were soon routed and dispersed.” 

“ This is really dreadful ! ” ejaculated Schill. 
“ And Ddrnberg? ” 

“ Ddrnberg succeeded in making his escape he 
will probably go to Prague, where the Elector of 
Hesse is at present residing.” 

“ Well, I am glad that he is at least safe,” ex- 
claimed Schill, breathing more freely. “ The de- 
feat is a disastrous blow, to be sure, but the good 
news, that we have just received will afford us 
consolation for it. The Archduke Charles has 
gained a glorious victory over the French at Hof.” 

“ Can that be positively true ? ” exclaimed Both- 
mar. “ During my whole journey I did not hear 
a word about it. On the contrary, I learned 
everywhere only the mournful intelligence that 
Napoleon had put himself at the head of his army, 
and was advancing victoriously in the direction of 
Vienna.” 

“ And yet my statement is perfectly true. Gen- 
eral Lestocq, governor of Berlin, in joyful com- 
memoration of this victory, issued to-day the 
countersign of ‘ Charles and Hof ! ’ ” 

“ Heaven grant that you are correctly informed, 
and that the general is not mistaken ! ” said M. von 
Bothmar, sighing. “ Pardon me for not sharing 
your confidence. The deplorable turn our affairs 
have taken in Hesse has discouraged me, and then 
— but I am not through yet with the news which 
brought me to you.” 

“ Speak, sir, — what, else has happened ? ” ex- 
claimed Schill. 


“Excuse me,” said M. von Bothmar, “should 
I assume the semblance of one of your most 
trusted confidants, and take the liberty of speak- 
ing to you about your most secret plans. You in- 
trusted to your faithful friend and follower, Rom- 
berg, letters and proclamations to be circulated 
in Westphalia. Am I right ? ” 

“You are.” 

“You gave to him private letters for Counsellor 
von Ledebour, at Bielefeld, and for Colonel von 
Sobbe, who were to head the insurrection in that 
part of the country ? ” 

“I did, sir; you are right.” 

“Well, then, major, Romberg was arrested at 
Magdeburg ; all his papers, letters, and proclama- 
tions, were seized, and General Michaud sent him 
under guard to Cassel.” 

“ Romberg imprisoned ! My dear, faithful 
Romberg in danger ! ” exclaimed Schill, mourn- 
fully. 

“ No,” said M. von Bothmar, solemnly, “ Rom- 
berg is no longer imprisoned ; he is not now in 
danger.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

“ I mean that Romberg, immediately after his 
arrival at Cassel, was tried by a Court-martial, and 
that sentence of death was at once passed upon 
him.” 

“ He has been shot ? ” 

“ Yes, Schill, Romberg has been shot.” 

Schill uttered a cry, and covered his face with 
his hands. “ Oh ! ” he murmured, “ I have lost 
my most faithful friend, and Germany one of her 
noblest sons. He was an humble peasant, but the 
heart of a great patriot was throbbing under his 
blouse. He was the Andrew Hofer of the North, 
and bis death is a terrible disaster ! But I will 
not complain,” added Schill — “ no, I will not 
complain. Blessed arC the dead, and who knows 
how soon we ourselves shall have to bid farewell 
to life ? The storm is threatening us on all sides.” 

“And it is threatening our noble Schill, the 
hope of Germany,” exclaimed M. von Bothmar. 
“ I have told you that all Romberg’s papers were 
seized, and among them the letters which you 
wrote to your friends Ledebour and Sobbe. Your 
proclamations were read by the French authori- 
ties, and as they thereby became aware of your 
plans, they will at once take steps to put a stop to 
your agitation, and, if possible, put you to death. 
Would Prussia be powerful and courageous enough 
to protect you, if the King of Westphalia should 
charge you with being a traitor and demagogue, 
and if Napoleon should insist on your punish- 
ment ? ” 

“ It is true,” said Schill, “you point out to me 


200 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


an imminent danger, from which I can only es- 
cape by striking immediately. If we give our 
enemies time to mature their plans, all will be 
lost. We must, therefore, act at once. We must 
hesitate no longer, but begin even before my com- 
rades here have learned that Eomberg did not 
succeed in his enterprise. We may be more suc- 
cessful, for God will perhaps be merciful to me ; 
He has decreed, perhaps, that Schill shall first 
of all break the chains imposed on us by the 
foreign despot.” 

“ Germany hopes in Scbill,” exclaimed Both- 
mar, enthusiastically, “ and hence I was bold 
enough to violate the oath of allegiance which I 
had taken to Xing -Jerome, and disclose to the 
German hero the danger menacing him. I am a 
referend^py at the department of state in *Cassel, 
and acjcjprdingly I soon heard of the danger to 
which you are exposed. Under the pretext that 
I intended to enforce tranquillity and obedience 
among the peasants on my estate, situated a few 
miles from Cassel, I obtained leave of absence for 
six days, and hastened hither. I set out from 
there three days ago, and, thank God ! I have 
found you in time to give you warning.” 

“ Thanks to you,” exclaimed Schill, affection- 
ately embracing M. von Bothmar ; “ you have 
saved my life, perhaps ; at all events, you have 
rendered an important service to the sacred cause 
of the fatherland.” 

Every one must serve the firtherland in his 
own way, and according to his ability,” said Both- 
mar, gently ; “ you are serving it by your heroic 
arm and soul-stirring example ; I am doing so by 
trying at least to prevent mischief, and to assist 
my brethren as much as I can. My task now is 
accomplished ! Farewell ! and may Heaven grant 
victory to your patriotic zeal ! ” 

“ Where are you going ? ” said Schill, grasping 
Bothmar’s arm and detaining him. “Y ou must 
not leave me yet ; you must remain here at least 
to-day, that — but what is the meaning of this 
bugle-call ? ” 

“ It means that the postilion has arrived with 
his horses, and calls me,” said M. von Bothmar, 
smiling. ' 

“ What ! You have travelled three days and 
three nights, and are departing so soon ? ” 

“ Have I not told you that I obtained leave of 
absence only for six days ? Well, then, three 
days hence I shall be in Cassel again, and, I be- 
lieve, I have improved my six days in a highly 
commendable manner.” 

“ Farewell, noble young man ! when we meet 
again, Gennany, if it please God, will be free and 
happy ! ” 


“ Oh, may it be so ! ” said M. von Bothmar, 
sighing. “ Be prudent, sir, do not endanger your 
life ; remember that it does not belong to you, 
but to the fatherland, and now farewell ! The 
impatient postilion is sounding his bugle again. 
Farewell ! ” 

He quickly left the room, but Schill accompa- 
nied to the staircase the friend he had gained so 
suddenly. He returned to his room and hastened 
to the window, to wave his hand once more to 
M. von Bothmar. Loud cheers greeted him as 
soon as his countenance was recognized behind 
the window-panes ; the crowd in front of the 
house constantly increased, and when he ap- 
peared to the longing eyes of the citizens, they 
could not suppress their loud huzzas. 

“ They do me too much honor,” said Schill to 
himself, smiling, and stepping back from the 
window. “ But their love and its boisterous dem- 
onstrations are not exactly intended for myself 
individually. These kind people greet in me the 
first hope dawning to them after a long period of 
darkness ; and, therefore, I will joyfully indulge 
them, and I will thank them by brave deeds. Yes, 
by deeds ! The time of procrastination is over. 
I must hesitate no longer : I must act ! ” 

His servant entered and handed him some let- 
ters just brought for him. He opened and read 
them rapidly. The perfume of the first, written 
on rose-colored note-paper, made him smile. “ It 
is the sixth declaration of love that I have re- 
ceived to-day,” he said, in a low voice, “ and the 
sixth request for a rendezvous to-night. Oh, 
women ! how innocent in your enthusiasm for 
poor Schill ! You imagine you love me, and do 
not know that it is the fatherland that you love 
in me ! I will reconquer your country, and 
bring back that sweet liberty which the ty- 
rant has taken from us. Until then, no Cu- 
pid’s love ! My heart must belong wholly to 
Germany ! ” " . 

He read the second letter. “ Another painter 
asks me to sit to him! Why, have not the 
people already portraits enough of poor SchiU ? 
Has not every old citizen my head on his pipe 
or his snuff-box ? Does not every pretty girl 
wear my scarred face in her locket ? I have no 
time to spare for painters ; I must take the 
field ! ” 

He opened the third ; but while he read it, his 
eyes were sad. “ Again the same admonition 
which I have so often received. Do they dou^t 
my patriotism? Do they believe that I am a 
traitor, and will suffer the opportunity to pass 
by without improving it?” 

He looked at the letter again, which contained 


FERDINAND VON SCHILL. 


201 


only tlie following Avords : “ Brutus, thou sleep- 
est, awake ! ” * 

“ No,” he exclaimed, in a powerful voice, “ I 
do not sleep. I am awake, and behold the golden 
dawn of freedom ! 0 Germany, my arm and my 
honor belong to thee ! To thee — and to her ! ” 
he whispered, almost inaudibly. “Yes, to her — 
the genius of Prussia! For her I will sacrifice 
my life ! ” 

The door opened again, and the footman en- 
tered. “ Major, there is another gentleman who 
desires to see you on pressing business. I wanted 
to turn him off, but he said it was indispensable 
for Mm to see you. He told me he wished to de- 
liver to the. major something that would gladden 
his heart. His name is High-Chamberlain von 
Schladen, and he said he had just arrived from 
Konigsberg.” 

“ Show Mm in at once,” exclaimed Schill, but, 
in his impetuosity, he himself led .the way and 
opened the door. 

“ Come in, Mr. High-Chamberlain, and forgive 
me for making you wait even a moment,” he said, 
offering his hand to M. von Schladen, and con- 
ducting Mm into his sitting-room. “You come 
from Konigsberg ? ” 

“ Yes, major, and I bring you greetings frorp 
your friends, from the brethren of the great 
league, and also from the king and the queen.” 

“ She really told you to greet me in her 
name?” asked Schill. “Oh, do not deceive me; 
tell me the truth ! Did the queen really tell you 
that ? ” 

“ She did more than that, major,” said M. von 
Schladen, smiling ; “ she intrusted to me a pres- 
ent for you, which I am to deliver to yourself, 
and which she made for you with her own 
hands.” 

At tMs moment Schill was a truly handsome 
man. If the ladies and the painters of Berlin 
had seen him just then, they would have been 
transported at his noble countenance, as his black 
eyes sparkled with joy. “ The queen sends me 
a present ! ” he exclaimed — “ a present which she 
herself has made ! ” 

“Yes, and on wMch she inscribed your name 
with her own hand, that it might be to you a plain 
and undeniable proof of her favor.” 

“ Oh, give it to me, sir ! ” exclaimed Schill, 
stretching out his hands. 

* Scbill received almost daily, from various parts of 
Germany, letters containing nothing hut those words. 
A secret society, extending throughout Germany, seemed 
to have made it a special duty to instigate Schill to 
strike the blow, lest the homage he received in Berlin 
should render him forgetful of his mission. 


M. von Schladen drew. a small package, wrap- 
ped in paper, from his bo^'om, and handed it to 
Schill. 

“ On my knees will I receive this present from 
my queen 1 ” exclaimed Schill. “ Oh, it seems to mo 
as though she were standing before me, looking 
at me with that sad smile which brings tears into 
the eyes of all who behold her 1 When I was at 
Konigsberg the other day, it was permitted me 
to speak to her, and press my lips on her hand. 
With that kiss I devoted myself to her for my 
whole life, and she is ever before my eyes, clothed 
in a sort of divine beauty — as a Madonna holding 
the Messiah of Freedom in -her arms ! And the 
noble queen, to whom I'Pjjiiy every night as to a 
saint, sends me a present which she has rpade for 
me with her own hands ? Oh, am I^prthy of 
such kindness ; have I done any thing entitling 
me to such a proof of condescension on her part, 
and am I thus honored by her who is the guardian 
angel of Prussia! — whom Napoleon hates, be- 
cause he fears her zeal and fidelity. As a vestal, 
she has kept alive the fire of patriotism on the 
altar of her country. When all despair, she still 
hopes for the redemption of her people from a 
victorious but merciless enemy. I will consecrate 
my life anew to her^ though unworthy of the dis- 
tinguished regard she bestows on me by this pres- 
ent, the work of her own royal hands.” 

“Yes, but you are worthy of the favor of our 
noble queen,” said M. von Schladen, solemnly, 
“ for you are the representative hero of Germany, 
and Heaven has decreed, perhaps, that you should 
break the first link of the chain with which the 
usurper has fettered our country. As soon as 
that link is broken, it will be easy to' break the 
rest. You, Major von Schill, are the hope of 
Germany — the hope of Queen Louisa. Take, then, 
the present which she sends you, worthy champion 
of the cause of her country ! ” 

He handed the package to the major. Schill, 
kneeling, took it and unfolded the wrapper. It 
contained a magnificent memorandum-book, em- 
broidered in gold, and closed with a gold pencil. 
Schill admired the rich art displayed in the book, 
and, opening it, looked for the autograph of the 
queen. He uttered, a joyful cry. The queen had 
written these words, in small, neat characters : 
“ For brave Major von Schill. Louisa.” 

Schill pressed his lips on the words, and then, 
closing the book, put it into his bosom, and rose 
from his knees. “ It will rest on my heart as 
long as I live,” he said ; “ its every pulsation be- 
longs to her ! And now, M. von Schladen, what 
is the state of affairs at Konigsberg? "Wliat 
hopes are entertamed there ? 


202 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


“ Hopes ! ” exclaimed M. von Schladen, with a 
mournful smile; “none — only appreheusions.” 

“And they do not yet think of bidding de- 
fiance to the tyrant, and of recalling noble Baron 
von Stein ? ” 

“ No, they dare not do so. Stein, proscribed 
by Napoleon, forsaken by his king, who sacrificed 
him at the emperor’s behest, is living in exile, 
deprived of his whole property, which Napoleon 
confiscated ; he is without employment, without 
influence, far from his country, far from his 
friends. The Emperor of Austria did what the 
King of Prussia dare not do : he gave an asylum 
to the proscribed patriot ; Baron von Stein is now 
with his family at Briinn.” 

“ And the king ? ” asked Schill. “ Does he not 
feel it as % wound to bow to the tyrant’s behest, 
and dismiss his noblest and ablest servant? ” 

“ He does, perhaps,” replied M. von Schladen, 
hesitatingly; “but he does not say so. The 
afflictions of the past years have broken his cour- 
age, and rendered him irresolute and timid. As 
soon as he received Napoleon’s orders, he dis- 
missed Baron von Stein, without bestowing any 
token of kindness or gratitude. Every true Prus- 
sian deeply felt this treatment ; one of the most 
faithful and upright servants of the king, District- 
Councillor Scheffner, who has every day inter- 
views with the queen, dared even to write a let- 
ter to the king, informing him of the indignation 
prevailing everywhere. He asked the king to 
gladden the hearts of all good Prussians, and to 
give a courageous proof of his royal gratitude 
toward the eminent minister, by conferring the 
order of the Black Eagle upon Baron von Stein.” 

“ And what did the king say to him ? ” 

“ He replied that he was very sorry that he was 
unable to comply with this request. Although he 
entertained the highest respect for Baron von 
Stein, and would be glad to confer this exalted 
distinction on him, it would be highly improper at 
the present time to make so dailgerous a demon- 
stration.” 

“ Such is the gratitude of kings toward their 
faithful servants ! ” exclaimed Schill, in a tone of 
bitter reproach ; “ such is the manner in which 
they reward those who have sacrificed for them 
their property and life ! But we do not struggle 
for kings and princes ; we are serving the adored 
fatherland; we are fighting for liberty, and the 
death which we find on the field of honor is an or- 
der of the Black Eagle which the great father- 
land confers on us ! 0 Germany, one day I shall 
also receive this honor at thy hands ; free Ger- 
many will adorn my eorpse with it !” 

“Oh, what desponding words you are now ut- 


tering!” said M. von Schladen, anxiously. “Who 
can be courageous and hopeful when Schill talks 
of death ? ” 

“ I am not desponding,” exclaimed Schill, smil- 
ing, “ but I have a foreboding that I am to seal my 
love for Germany with my heart’s blood. I am 
almost glad of it, for friendships so sealed are said 
to be eternal, and Germany will, perhaps, revere 
my memory when I die for her. — And Louisa ! 
What says the queen ? How does she bear these 
days of humiliation ? ” 

“ Like a heroine 1 Like a queen whose king- 
dom is not of this world. Her cheeks are pale, 
but a spirit of resignation pervades her counte- 
nance, and when she turns her blue eyes upward, 
there is an expression in them that plainly reveals 
her yearning for a home in heaven ! ” 

“ But her health is good ? ” inquired Schill, 
anxiously. “ She is not ill ? ” 

“ That is to say, she is not positively ill, but 
her whole life is that of a martyr. Her heart is 
broken ; she suffers mentally, while she is not al- 
together free from physical pain. But she never 
complains, and, alas I the physicians know of no 
remedy. There is but one for our smiling, suffer- 
ing queen, and that is the deliverance of her 
country 1 ” 

“ Germany must and shall be delivered,” ex- 
claimed Schill, enthusiastically. “ Something must 
be done 1 We must arouse the sleepers ; we must 
compel them to act 1 ” 

“You are right! The nation must wake and 
rise. That is the opinion of all patriots, as w^ell 
as of the queen. And we are looking with trust- 
ing hearts toward you; we hope that you will give 
this impetus to our countrymen. It is out of the 
question to hesitate longer ; we must act. Austria 
is in the field ; her people are exultingly march- 
ing to vanquish the tyrant, who, with his proud 
armies, has again penetrated into Germany. The 
report that the Archduke Charles has gained a 
victory is as though it were the first herald an- 
nouncing to us safety and restoration. Hope fills 
every heart. As soon as Schill unfurls his ban- 
ner and calls upon his brethren to commence the 
holy struggle for the liberation of the fatherland, 
patriotic men from all the states of Prussia and 
North Germany will rally around him ; the enthu- 
siasm of the people will rush like a torrent carry- 
ing away the king and his ministers in spite of 
themselves; their hesitations, fears, and coward- 
ice, will be overwhelmed by the public determina- 
tion. The hope of the queen is in Schill’s heroic 
example; it is the hope of Gneisenau, Bliicher, 
and Scharnhorst ; it is the hope of all ! ” 

“And it shall be fulfilled,” exclaimed Schill. 


SCHILL TAKES THE FIELD. 


“ Brutus does not sleep. He is awake, and ready 
for action. I swear it by this precious gift of my 
queen!” He drew the memorandum-book from 
his bosom. Solemnly laying his hand on it, and 
raising his eyes towards heaven, he said : “ I swear 
that I will draw my sword now for the fight of 
liberty — that I will not .sheath it until this sacred 
cause has been carried to a glorious conclusion, 
unless forbidden by death longer to serve my 
queen and country ! ” He pressed the book 
against his lips, and then opening it read again 
Louisa’s words. As he turned over the leaves, a 
scrap of paper fell upon the floor. Picking it up, 
he saw that it contained a single line written 
in the same small handwriting : “ Der Konig 
schwankt ; Schill, ziehen sie mit Gott ! ” * “ Yes, 
Heaven is on our side, to fight for Germany and 
her noble queen ! ” exclaimed Schill. “ I will de- 
part to-morrow ! ” 


CHAPTER XLVIL 

SCHILL TAKES THE FIELD. 

The following afternoon (March 28, 1809) Major 
Ferdinand von Schill proceeded with his regiment 
through the streets of Berlin to the Halle gate. 
The people saluted him everywhere with loud 
cheers and waving of hats. 

Schill thanked them more gravely than he had 
hitherto done, and marched his soldiers out of the 
gate. No one was surprised at this ; all supposed 
that he only intended to-day, as he had often done, 
to drill his troops and to encamp near the city. 
His adjutants, Barsch and Liitzow, were, however, 
aware of his plans, and had secretly made prepa- 
rations to carry them into effect. 

The regiment took the road to Potsdam. Major 
von Schill and his two adjutants rode at its 
head, and patriotic songs from the soldiers re- 
sounded along their march. About half-way be- 
tween Berlin and Potsdam, near the village of 
Steglitz, the major stopped his horse, and, with a 
wave of his sword, ordered the regiment to halt ; 
then to move from the road into the adjoining 
field, and form in square. The command was 
obeyed in a few minutes ; and Major von Schill, 
resting in the centre on his chestnut charger, sur- 
veyed his men with evident pleasure. 

All eyes were turned toward him — all hearts 
were beating with affection for that man of in- 
domitable courage towering above them.^ Address- 
ing them, his sonorous voice rang over the welkin 

* “ The king hesitates ; Schill, inarch with God I ” 


^\JiJ 

as the first notes of a trumpet summoning to the 
field of blood. 

“ Soldiers,” he said, “ comrades ! the moment 
has come to fight the enemy, against whom all 
our souls are filled with hatred — the despoiler 
of thrones, who has plunged our fatherland into 
such distress; who has trampled under foot all 
the rights of man ; to whom no treaty, no peace 
is sacred, and who is only waiting for an oppor- 
tunity utterly to destroy the constitution of our 
country. The perfidious oppressor thus treated 
Spain, after she had made numerous sacrifices to 
him in order to preserve peace. He intends to 
degrade Prussia in the same manner, and not to 
rest until he has dethroned our beloved king and 
prostrated the illustrious dynasty of the Hohenzol- 
lerns. But never shall he succeed in carrying out 
so nefarious a plan ! Austria, Germany, every 
patriotic* heart is rising against him, and we Prus- 
sians cannot remain behind. It is a sacred obli- 
gation to fight for the fatherland, for our beloved 
king, for the queen whom we all worship, a pre- 
cious token from whom I am now holding in my 
hand, and for whom we are ready at any hour to 
die 1 ” 

While uttei’ing these words, Schill waved the 
embroidered memorandum-book, which flashed in 
the sunbeams as a trophy and pledge of victoiy. 

Shouts burst from the soldiers. “ Hurrah 1 ” 
they cried, “ long live the king and the queen 1 
long live Major von Schill ! ” 

“ Boys,” exclaimed Schill, “ will you follow me, 
and fight for Germany and our king ? ” 

“Yes, we will, we will ! ” shouted the hussars, 
drawing their sabres and waving them over their 
heads. 

“ Will you swear to stand by your commander 
to the last extremity ? 

“ We swear to stand by you to the last 1 ” was 
the enthusiastic answer, while the soldiers looked 
exultantly at each other, and exchanged congratu- 
lations at the opening of the campaign. But no 
one had thought of future dangers or the necessi- 
ties of a soldier’s life. They had nothing but their 
uniforms ; leaving in Berlin all their money and 
clothing, and, unaware of this sudden movement, 
they had not even taken leave cf their parents, 
wives, and children. Every thing was forgotten 
in their patriotism, so soon and unexpectedly 
tested — in their glowing desire to save their coun- 
try, and gain a name on the field of honor. 

The march was continued to Potsdam. There 
they rested over night, and the servants of the 
officers joined them in the morning, bringing from 
the governor of Berlin passports for Schill. The 
brave little regiment soon after left for an assault 


204 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


on the fortress of Wittenberg. It was not taken, 
but the commander of Wittenberg concluded an 
armistice with Schill, and permitted him and his 
soldiers, with their drums beating, to march under 
the cannon of the fortress, and to pass the bridge 
built at that place over the Elbe. 

On the 2d of May the regiment reached Dessau. 
The duke had fled, but the inhabitants received 
the Prussian hussars in the most ardent manner, 
and hailed Schill as the hero who would free the 
people from the yoke under which they were 
groaning. 

The expedition was no longer a secret. The 
joyful news spread : “ Schill has taken the field 
against Napoleon ; he has called the Germans to 
arms, and they will rally around his banner ! ” 

' lie himself believed in success, firmly convinced 
that it was only necessary for him to issue a proc- 
lamation, and the people would rise en masse. 
He resolved to do so from his headquarters at 
Dessau. No sooner had he reached that city than 
he hurriedly prepared his call “ To the Germans ! ” 
The ink was not yet dry, when he took the paper, 
and, accompanied by his adjutants, went to the 
house of M. Hormuth, printer to the court, and 
asked to see him. The printer soon made his 
appearance, and anxiously asked Schill his busi- 
ness. 

“You will please print this proclamation, sir,” 
said Schill, handing him the paper ; “it must be 
ready in an hour.” 

“ Major,” said Hormuth, glancing despairingly 
at the scarcely legible handwriting, “I cannot 
print it, for I am unable to read it.” 

“ Oh, I will read it to you,” exclaimed Schill, 
and he commenced : 

“ To THE Germans ! — Brethren, groaning under 
the yoke of a foreign nation ! the moment has 
arrived when you are able to break your chains, 
and to regain the constitution under which you 
have lived in happiness and prosperity for cen- 
turies, until the boundless ambition of a conqueror 
brought incalculable calamities upon our country. 
Rise ! Be men ! Follow me, and we shall again 
be what we were ! Ring the tocsin ! Let this 
signal fan the flame of patriotism in your hearts, 
and be the death-knell of your oppressors ! Take 
up arms ! Scythes and pikes may take the place 
of muskets. They will soon be replaced by Eng- 
lish weapons already arrived. Wielded by strong 
arms, even the peaceful -scythe becomes fatal. 
Let every one arm himself, and share the glory 
of the liberators of the fatherland, fighting not 
only for himself but for the safety and happiness 
of future generations ! He who is cowardly 
enough to disobey this call, will be ’ consigned to 


contempt and infamy. No noble German girl will 
ever bestow her hand upon such a traitor. Cour- 
age ! God is with us and our just cause. Let the 
old men pray for us ! The armies of Austria are 
advancing victoriously, notwithstanding the boasts 
of the French ; the brave Tyrolese have already 
broken their chains; the courageous Hessians 
have risen, and I am hastening to you at the 
head of well-tried and skilful soldiers. Tlie just 
cause will soon conquer, and the ancient glory 
of our country will be restored. To arms ! to 
arms ! Schill.” 

“Now, sir,” said Schill, “ I suppose you will be 
able to read my handwriting and to print it ? ” 

“ Now that I know the contents,” said M. Hor- 
muth, shaking his head, “ I know also that he 
who prints this proclamation endangers his life, 
and that he may lose it just as soon as Palm. 
Sir, I have a wife and children ; I am happy with 
my family ; hence life is dear to me, and I should 
not like to lose it like poor Palm. He did much 
less than you ask me to do. He only circulated a 
pamphlet hostile to the French, but I am to print 
a proclamation calling upon all Germans to rise 
in arms against the Emperor of the French. Major, 
I risk my life by complying with your order.” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed Schill, angrily ; “ you 

are a German, and refuse to serve the holy cause 
of your country ? You refuse to print this proc- 
lamation ? ” 

“ No, I will print it,” said M. Hormuth, slowly ; 
“ I will print it, but only on one condition.” 

“Well, and that condition is — ” 

“ That you, major, be kind enough to hold a 
pistol to my breast and threaten to shoot me, in 
case I refuse. You must do so in the presence of 
my compositors, and give me a written certificate 
that I yielded only to violence.” 

“ M. Hormuth, you are a very prudent man, 
and it will alTord me great pleasure to fulfil your 
wishes,” said Schill, smilingly, drawing his pistol 
and aiming at the printer. 

“Pray, major, do not cock it, for the pistol 
might go off,” said Hormuth, anxiously. “Now 
be kind enough to hold it to my breast, and shout 
in a loud and menacing voice that you will 
shoot me like a dog if I refuse to print this paper. 
Distribute also some insulting epithets — call me a 
coward, a renegade, any thing you can think of, 
and as loud and threatening as you can.” 

“Yery well, I will do all that,” said Schill, 
laughing, and his adjutants, as well as M. Hor 
muth himself, joined in the sport. 

“ Now, let us go to work,” said Schill. 

“ Will you print this proclamation, you miser- 
able coward ? Why, you have not pluck enough 


SCHILL TAKES THE FIELD. 


205 


to be a German ! I ask you, for the last time, 
will you print the proclamation ? ” 

“ Sir, have mercy upon me ! ” wailed M. Hor- 
muth, in a terrified tone. “ I cannot print it. It 
is impossible, sir ; impossible ! ” 

“ You villain, I will kill you on the spot if you 
dare resist me,” cried Schill. “ I — ” 

“ My compositors will be here presently,” said 
M. Hormuth. “ Please go on in the same strain.” 

“ I will shoot you like a dog if you do not 
obey ! ” 

“ Help ! help ! oh, major, have mercy ! ” 

The doors opened, and there appeared at one 
door the compositors and pressmen ; at the other, 
Madame Hormuth with her children. 

“ Will you print my proclamation, you infa- 
mous scoundrel ? ” shouted Schill. “ Say no, and 
I will put a bullet through your cowardly heart ! ” 
“ Sir, I cannot ; I — ” 

“ Husband, I beseech you ! ” cried Madame 
Hormuth, rushing toward him. “ Husband, con- 
sider what you are doing ; think of your chil- 
dren, think of me, and comply with the wishes of 
the major.” 

“ No ! I will die rather than print so seditious 
a paper ! ” 

“Very well, then, you shall die,” said Schill. 
“ You refuse to print, and I will assuredly shoot 
you.” 

“ M. Hormuth, you may as well yield,” said 
the compositors. “ It is prudent to submit to 
necessity. Besides, we are somewhat interested, 
for your death would throw us out of work.” 

“ I will yield,” said M. Hormuth, sighing. 
“ Take away your pistol, major. I will print your 
proclamation ; but be so good as to certify that 
I consent only on account of your threats and 
violence. My workmen will sign the certificate 
as witnesses, will you not ? ” 

“ Yes, certainly, we will cheerfully witness what 
is true.” 

“Very well,” said M. Hormuth. “Now quick, 
boys ; go to work ! Here is the manuscript. Let 
four compositors take it. Divide the copy into 
four parts ; the composition must be done in fif- 
teen minutes, and the printing in two hours. How 
many copies do you want, major ? ” 

“ Ten thousand.” 

“ Very well, ten thousand copies to be 'done in 
two hours. We must remember my life is at 
stake ; for I suppose you will shoot me, major, 
if we should disappoint you ? ” 

“ You may be sure of that. Now give me the 
pen and ink that I may draw up that certificate 
for you.” 

The ten thousand printed copies arrived ex- 


actly two hours afterward at the headquarters of 
Major von Scihill, and M. Hormuth, who refused 
to take any payment for them, received in return 
a certificate that he had been forcibly compelled 
to print them. 

The brave regiment left Dessau on the follow- 
ing day, still in the joyful hope that the German 
people would rise, and that a host of warriors 
would respond to the call for the deliverance of 
the fatherland. But alas ! this hope was not to 
be fulfilled. The population of the cities and vil- 
lages received Schill’s hussars and their heroic 
chieftain in the most gratifying manner. His 
proclamation was read everywhere with unbound- 
ed pleasure, but no one dared to follow him ; no 
scythes or pikes were to be seen in the array of 
this little band of patriots. There was but one glad 
day for Schill; that was on the 12th of May, 
when Lieutenant von Quistorp, from Berlin, joined 
him with a hundred and sixty men, who had left 
their colors and came with him to reenforce 
“ brave Schill, the liberator of Germany.” 

But Quistorp brought at the same time bad 
news. The report of a victory of the Austrians 
had proved unfounded. The Archduke Charles 
had obtained no advantages ; on the contrary, 
after a succession of desperate engagements, he 
was beaten on the 23d of April at Ratisbon, and 
escaped with the remnant of his army into the 
Bohmerwald. The Emperor Napoleon had ad- 
vanced with his victorious forces on the direct 
road to Vienna. 

“ If Napoleon takes Vienna,” said Schill to 
himself, “ then we shall all perish ! But we will 
still hope and trust ; the fortune of war may turn 
yet. The Emperor of Austria is still in Vienna, and 
the citizens have sworn to be buried under the 
ruins of their city rathor than open its gates again 
to the enemy. Let us hope, therefore, and fight.” 
Turning to Quistorp, he continued : “ Every thing 
may yet turn out well. My proclamation may 
find an echo in the hearts of my Prussian com- 
rades, and they may unite with us. To-day, you. 
Lieutenant von Quistorp, have arrived with one 
hundred and sixty men ; to-morrow another friend 
may join us with several thousand. Before long 
we shall have a considerable army, and this will 
inspire those still hesitating, and make the timid 
bold. The larger our force, the firmer will be 
the confidence of the king, and finally he will 
freely and openly order all the regiments to join 
us and commence the struggle.” 

“Do not hope in the king, major,” said Lieu- 
tenant von Quistorp, sadly. “ The failure of 
Dornberg’s rising, the defeat of rihe Archduke 
Charles, and the new victories of Napoleon, have 


206 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


made him more irresolute than ever ; he is afraid 
of Napoleon’s anger and vengeance, and, more in- 
disposed than ever to incur them, he has publicly 
and solemnly repudiated your bold movement.” 

“ What has the king done ? ” exclaimed Schill, 
turning pale ; “ what do you know ? ” 

“ I know that the king has also issued a proc- 
lamation, in which he says that he cannot find 
words sufficiently forcible to express his disap- 
proval of your illegal and criminal conduct ; he 
calls upon the army not to be seduced by your 
example, and orders you, and all with you, to be 
tried by a court-martial.” 

“ That is impossible ! ” cried Schill, in great 
excitement ; “ the king cannot forsake me in 
so shameful a manner! You have been mis- 
informed, Quistorp ; certain persons have tried 
to deter you from joining me by false reports.” 

“No,” said Quistorp, “you are mistaken. I 
was already on the march to Arneburg, when, a 
few miles from here, a courier, under instructions 
from General Chassot, overtook me. In order to 
Avarn me, the general sent me the proclamation 
of the king, and ordered me to face about imme- 
diately and return to my regiment. He added 
that this was the last order he would issue, for 
he, as well as General Lestocq, governor of Ber- 
lin, had been called, by order of the king, to Ko- 
nigsberg, where both of them were to be tried 
by a military commission. Here 'are the papers, 
major.” 

Schill glanced over them, and, while reading, his 
hands trembled. “ This is a terrible blow,” he said, 
sighing. “ The king proscribes me, and brands 
me as a traitor and deserter. It is all in vain ! 
Germany is asleep, and our voice will not awaken 
her ; Germany lies in the dust before the French 
tyrant, and the King of Prussia will punish as 
ti’aitors those who act courageously ! Oh, my 
country, thou art lost, for thy own princes betray 
thee ! ” 

He sank despairingly on a chair, and hid his 
face with his hands. In this attitude he remained, 
groaning piteously, a prey to his anguish. The 
adjutants entered the room, but Schill did not 
notice them. Absorbed in his reflections and 
forebodings, his mind, as it were, had passed 
from the contemplation of the present, and be- 
held nothing but the awful future. 

The three young officers, Liitzow, Quistorp, and 
Barsch, well known for their intrepidity, stood 
sad and dejected before their brave major. 

Suddenly rising from his chair, he said: “I 
thank you, Lieutenant von Quistorp, for having 
joined me with your faithful men. Germany will 
sec at least that there are still brave men who do 


not forsake their country, and if we sacrifice our 
lives for her, she will at least engrave our names 
on the tablets of her martyrs. We cannot re- 
trace our steps, my friends ; we must advance, 
though death stare us in the face. This very 
night we leave Arneburg, and continue our march. 
We may still succeed in what Dbrnberg and 
Charles have been unable to accomplish. We 
shall appeal again to the patriotism of the Ger- 
mans. Perhaps their hearts will practically re- 
spond — they may hear our voice and follow us. 
But if fortune have decided against us, if we suc- 
cumb without delivering our country, very well ! 
‘ An end with terror is better than terror without 
end ! ’ Before us is honor, and at the worst, a 
glorious death ; behind us, contumely and dis- 
grace. Therefore, forward ! ” 


OHAPTEK XLVIII. 

schill’s death. 

Schill was sitting, sad and deserted, at his 
lonely quarters in Rostock, where, after many ad- 
ventures, he arrived on the 20th of May. He had 
succeeded in nothing ; fortune had not once been 
favorable to him. He had intended to turn 
toward Magdeburg, in hope that its garrison of 
Westphalian troops would joyously open the gates 
of the fortress, and declare against King Jerome, 
who had been forced upon them. But, at a dis- 
tance of a German mile from the city the col- 
umns of the enemy had met him, and an engage- 
ment had taken place at Dodendorf. It was in 
vain that Schill had sent a flag of truce to his 
German brethren to request them to join him, 
imploring them not to betray the fatherland for 
the sake of a French king. 

The Westphalians shot the bearer of the flag 
of truce, and a murderous fire was their only 
reply. Now began the desperate struggle -of 
brethren against brethren — of Germans against 
Germans ! 

Schill was victorious in this battle. He mor 
tally wounded the French commander of the West- 
phalians, Colonel Vautier ; his hussars fought like 
lions and dispersed the enemy; a hundred and 
sixty prisoners, several stands of colors, and a 
large number of small-arms, were the trophies 
of this brilliant affair. But he was unable to de- 
rive any benefit from the Dodendorf victory ; fear- 
ing lest a larger corps should leave Magdeburg 
and attack him, he retreated, overwhelmed with 
grief, for he at last understood tliat the German 


SCHILL’S DEATH. 


P07 


soldiers were deaf to his appeals, and that the 
Westphalians, faithful to their French king, re- 
fused to desert him. 

N^or had Schill’s second victory, the occupation 
of Ddnritz, been advantageous to him. More- 
over, dissensions had arisen among the officers 
themselves ; the regiment, so enthusiastic at first, 
commenced gradually to lose faith in his ability 
to succeed in his bold enterprise ; the officers in- 
sisted on being consulted as to future operations. 
They refused to yield obedience, and demanded 
that he should listen to their advice and remon- 
strances. But resistance rendered him only more 
determined, and in his obstinacy he frequently 
rejected prudent counsel, that he might accom- 
plish his own plans. His mind was confused by 
disappointment, and at length by despair. He 
was, in fact, unequal to the dangers surrounding 
him. 

Schill was sitting, sad and deserted, at his 
lonely quarters in Eostock, absorbed in discour- 
aging thoughts, and sighing at the frustration of 
his hopes. In his hand he held the memoran- 
dum-book the queen had presented to him, and 
read again and again the words she had written : 

To brave Major von Schill.” Suddenly the door 
behind him opened, and Lieutenant von Liitzow, 
with his uniform covered with dust, entered the 
room. , 

Schill slowly turned his head. “ Well, Liitzow, 
have you returned?” he asked. “Were you at 
Doberan ? Did you see the duke ? ” 

“Yes, I was at Doberan.” 

“ And what news do you bring ? Bad news, 
of course ! Did you see the Duke of Mecklen- 
burg ? ” 

“ Mb, the duke had given orders to admit 
neither you nor any of your delegates. He says 
he will have nothing to do with insurgents and 
rebels.” 

“ Of course,” exclaimed Schill, laughing scorn- 
fully, “he is a German prince, and, therefore, 
cannot adhere to the cause of Germany, but must 
side with France ! Oh, I ought to have known it 
before. Well, it is all right. What other news 
do you bring, Liitzow ? ” 

“ Here, major, is a paper issued by King Jerome 
of Westphalia. His majesty does you the honor 
to call you in this proclamation a chief of rob- 
bers, a pirate, and a deserter, and commands the 
military and civil authorities to hunt you down. 
He also offers a reward of ten thousand francs to 
him who will bring you dead or alive to Cassel.” 

“ Is that so ? ” exclaimed Schill, laughing. 
“ Well, M. Jerome attaches a tolerably high value 
to my head. I am sorry that I am unable to re- 


turn the compliment. I shall reply this very day 
to Jerome’s proclamation by issuing one to the 
Germans, and by promising a reward of five dol- 
lars for his delivery, living or dead. — ^What else, 
lieutenant ? ” 

“ The Emperor Napoleon has also issued an 
edict against Schill and his men. He says in this 
document : ‘ A certain Schill, a sort of highway 
robber, who committed crime upon crime during 
the last campaign in Prussia, and was rewarded 
with a captaincy, has deserted with his whole 
regiment from Berlin, marched to Wittenberg, 
and surrounded that place. General Lestocq, 
governor of Berlin, has declared Schill a deserter, 
and the King of Prussia has given orders to arrest 
him wherever he can be found, and to put the in- 
surgent on trial before a court-martial.’ ” 

“ Yes,” murmured Schill, musingly, “ the Ger- 
man patriot has become an insurgent, and is 
to be punished for what he attempted in the 
salvation of his country. It was quite unne 
cessary for the emperor to abuse and revile him 
who boldly opposed his tyranny ; the King of 
Prussia and the governor of Berlin had already 
done so. And what else does Napoleon say ? ” 

“ He orders a corps of observation to be formed 
on the Elbe, to be commanded by the marshal, 
Duke of Yalmy, and to be sixty thousand 
strong.” 

“ Sixty thousand men ! ” exclaimed SchilL 
“ Ah ! it seems M. Napoleon has, a pretty good 
opinion of ‘ that deserter Schill,’ inasmuch as he 
considers him dangerous enough to oppose to him 
an army of sixty thousand men. Thank you, M. 
Bonaparte, thank you for this acknowledgment. 
It is a delightful balm to the tortured heart of the 
poor Prussian deserter ; it restores his courage. 
Let us advance undauntedly — we may conquer 
yet. The Germans may awake and rally round 
the standard of liberty ! ” 

“ Alas,- Schill, I am afraid your, hopes are in 
vain,” said Liitzow, sadly. “I am not yet done 
with my bad news.” 

“ Not yet ? ” asked Schill, mournfully. “ Pro- 
ceed ! ” 

“ Yienna has fallen ! ” 

“ Yienna fallen ! ” cried Schill, in dismay. “ Is 
that really true ? ” 

“ It is. The Emperor Francis and his family 
have fled to Hungary, and the Emperor of the 
French has again made his triumphant entry.” 

“ And the Yiennese did not even try to defend 
their city ? ” 

“ They did try, but soon laid down their arms 
and submitted quietly to the conqueror. Napoleon 
has established his headquarters at Schonbrunn, 


208 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


and issued a proclamation to the Austrians. He 
calls upon them to be faithful and obedient to 
him, and disbands the militia of Yienna. A gen- 
eral amnesty is granted to those who surrender 
their arms.” 

“ A general amnesty,” exclaimed Schill, “ for the 
crime they committed in complying with the re- 
quest of their sovereign to take up arms and de- 
fend their country ! And what is to be done with 
those Avho do not surrender ? ” 

“ The houses of both officers and privates of 
the militia who do not return home within a spe- 
cified time, are to be burned down, their property 
confiscated, and themselves tried and punished as 
rebels.” 

“ Oh,” exclaimed Schill, raising his hands, “ is 
there still justice in heaven, or is it also asleep ! 
Is there no ear for our wails, no compassion for 
our disgrace ? What is natural, grows unnat- 
ural ; honor becomes dishonor ; patriotism, rebel- 
lion — and Heaven seems to permit it ! ” 

“ Yes,” said Liitzow, with a melancholy smile. 
“ What Ovid said of Cato now becomes true of 
you : ‘ The victorious cause pleases the gods, but 
the vanquished one pleases you ! ’ ” 

“Yes,” murmured Schill, “the vanquished 
cause pleased Cato ! and it shall also please Schill 
as long as he breathes. It shall please him 
though his king call him a deserter, and a court- 
martial pass sentence of death upon him. ‘ The 
people of Nuremberg hang none but those they 
have in custody,’ is a proverb often repeated, and 
I think the people of Konigsberg wiU not shoot a 
man they cannot catch ! I would rather be 
trampled to death by the horses of the enemy, 
than pierced by the bullets of my German 
brethren. The matter is settled, Liitzow ; let us 
continue the struggle.” 

“ Continue the struggle ? ” asked Liitzow. “ I 
beseech you, take my advice and do not follow 
the dictates of courage alone ; listen also to those 
of prudence. It will be utterly useless, Schill ; 
we should husband our strength for better times. 
We are threatened either by military force, or the 
rigor of the law. Prussia has drawn up a corps 
on her frontier to repulse us, if need be, should 
we come armed ; and, if unarmed, she would have 
us tried by a court-martial. Napoleon’s corps of 
observation Is stationed on the boundaries of 
Saxony and Westphalia, and even the King of 
Denmark has ordered General von Ewald to march 
against us.” 

“The stag has been sun’ounded, but not yet 
captured,” exclaimed Schill. “ There is still a 
place where he may escape. The King of Sweden 
has not yet a corps in the field against us, and 


Stralsund is occupied only by a garrison of scarce- 
ly three hundred men, commanded by General 
Candras. Let us march thither and surprise the 
fortress. When Stralsund is ours, we are on the 
sea-shore, and in communication with the British ; 
we have ships in the harbor, on which, if every 
thing else should fail, we could find an asylum, 
and hasten to England.” 

“ But suppose wx should not take Stralsund ? ” 
asked Liitzow. “ How could we escape ? I be- 
seech you, hsten to reason, consider our hopeless 
situation ; save yourself — save the poor soldiers 
who have reposed confidence and hope in you! 
Let us embark for England. There are well-nigh 
thirty ships in the harbor of Warnemiinde ; if 
they refuse to take us on board, we can compel 
them.” 

“No,” exclaimed Schill, vehemently. “We 
shall do just as I said — ^march to Stralsund and 
take the fortress. But Lieutenant Barsch is to 
seize twenty of the ships at Warnemiinde and 
embark on them our baggage, the sick, and the 
military chest, and convey them to the island of 
Kiigen. We start to-morrow and take Stral- 
sund. That is my plan, and it must be accom- 
phshed ! ” 

And Schill’s plan was accomplished. He march- 
ed his hussars to Stralsund, and for a moment 
fortune smiled on him. The French commander, 
General Candras, preferred to meet the enemy 
in the open field instead of awaiting him be- 
hind the half-decayed fortifications. He marched 
against Schill with the whole garrison and a bat- 
tery of light artillery ; but the Prussian hussars, 
with a shout attacked the enemy, and dispersed 
them, took six hundred prisoners, and made their 
triumphant entry into Stralsund. 

“ And here let us conquer or die,” said Schill 
to his officers, who were standing around him. 
“Friends, brethren! the day of success is at 
hand, and Stralsund is the first token. Let us 
remain here ; throw up intrenchments against the 
enemy, and wait for the succor which England 
has so often promised.” 

“ Let us not wait for this succor,” said one of 
the officers ; “let us meet it.” 

“ Every hour of delay increases the danger,” 
exclcdmed another. “If we do not now embrace 
the opportunity — if we do not start wdthout de- 
lay, and meet the English squadron in the open 
sea, or hasten to the Swedish shore, we must in- 
evitably perish.” 

“It would be foolhardiness to remain here 
for the enemy’s superior force to attack us,” said 
a third. “ To struggle against such odds is folly, 
and prudent men submit to the decrees of fortune, 


SCHILL’S DEATH. 


209 


instead of resisting them in a spirit of childish 
petulance.” 

“ Let us husband our resources for a future 
day,” said a fourth. “ It will come when Ger- 
many, which is repudiating us now, will stand in 
need of our assistance, and call us to her side. 
Let us preserve ourselves for more favorable 
prospects, and a greater probability of success.” 

Schill looked angrily on his officers. “ Is there 
no one who will raise his voice against these 
opinions ? ” he asked. “Is there no one who will 
reply to the timid and desponding, in the name 
of honor, courage, and patriotism f ” 

All were silent ; a murmur of indignation was 
the only reply. “Well, then,” exclaimed Schill, 
ardently, “ I will myself speak against you all ; I 
will tell you that it is cowardly to flee from danger, 
and to think of defeat instead of victory; that 
it is perfidious to desert our country when in 
danger, to save one’s own miserable life. Ac- 
cursed be he who thinks of flight and of forsak- 
ing the great cause which we are serving! AVe 
must hold Stralsund to the last man. We must 
make it a German Saragossa, and lie dead be- 
neath the ruins of the city rather than surrender. 
Let us repair the fortifications, throw up new earth- 
works, and await the enemy behind the intrench- 
ments. This is my resolution ; I will not suffer 
contradiction, but treat as rebels and mutineers 
those who dare to act contrary to my orders ! 
The soldiers obey me, and I am their commander. 
But such of the officers as do not wish to parti- 
cipate longer in the struggle ; who, instead of re- 
maining true to their duty, prefer to save their 
lives by flight, are at liberty to do so. I will not 
prevent them from making their escape ; they may 
embark on one of the ships in the harbor, and flee 
whither they desire. Let them remember, how- 
ever, that they will leave their dishonor here, and 
will not participate in the glory which posterity 
may grant as the only conqueror’s crown to poor 
Schill and his faithful men. Let such as desire to 
flee step forth and receive their discharge.” A 
long pause ensued. No one advanced. 

“We agreed to serve under the leadership of 
Major von Schill,” at last said the oldest officer, 
in a grave, solemn voice ; “ we have sworn to fight 
under him against the enemies of our country, to 
remain with him to the last, and to obey his or- 
ders. We shall fulfil our oath, and not faith- 
lessly desert the banner which we have hitherto 
followed. Let Major von Schill consider, how- 
ever, that he is responsible for the lives of all 
those who have united their destiny with his own, 
and that his conscience, God, and posterity, will 
judge him, if instead of preserving them he should 
14 


lead them to an inglorious death or captivity. If 
Major von Schill is unwilhng to listen to prudence 
— if he refuses to embark and escape with us, we 
will all remain, and, with him, await our fate. 
Speak, then, major, will you go with us or re- 
main ? ” 

“ I will remain,” exclaimed Schill, energetically. 
“ I will await the enemy ; I will conquer or die 
on German soil. Oh, friends, comrades, do not 
speak to me of flight or submission ; Schill does 
not flee, Schill does not submit ! I have tried to 
arouse my country ; I have stretched out my hand 
toward my counti’ymen, and said to them, ‘ I 
will assist you in shaking the sleep from your 
half-closed eyes. Rise ! and I will lead you in the 
path of liberty and honor. My arm is strong, and 
my sword is sharp; unite with me, and let us 
expel the tyrant ! ’ But Germany did not listen to 
my appeal ; she is still sleeping too soundly, and 
God did not decree that I should accomplish my 
task. Perhaps Providence may intend that you 
and I shall strengthen the cause of liberty by 
shedding our blood — our death will awaken the 
sleepers, that they may avenge us. The Ger- 
mans entertain great admiration for the dead. It 
is only toward the living that they are cold and re- 
served. Brethren, let us die for liberty if we can- 
not live for it. Let us remain united in life and 
death ! ” 

“ Yes, united in fife and death 1 ” exclaimed all 
the officers, and they thronged around Schill to 
shake hands with him, and to assure him of their 
fidelity. 

Pour days of repose and peace followed. — 
Schill profited by them to repair the decayed in- 
trenchments and fortifications, and made all neces- 
sary preparations for an obstinate defence against 
the approaching enemy. 

On the 31st of May, early in the morning, 
while the major was reviewing his troops in the 
market-place, wild shouts were heard in the 
streets. They drew nearer and nearer. Soldiers 
were rushing toward Schill, and behind them, at 
some distance, others in red uniforms became 
visible. 

A flash of joy kindled the patriot’s face. “ The 
English,” he exclaimed, in a loud voice, “ see their 
red coats 1 The English have landed, and are 
coming to our assistance 1 ” 

“ The English are coming I ” echoed the exultant 
soldiers. 

“ No, no,” gasped one of the guards, who had 
just reached the market-place, “the Dutch are 
coming — it is the enemy ! They surprised us at the 
Knieper gate, dispersed our infantry, and pene- 
trated into the city. See 1 their assaulting columns 


I 


210 ' NAPOLEON AND 

aro already advancing ! Let every one escape as 
he can ! ” 

“ It is the enemy ! ” exclaimed Schill, vaulting 
on his horse. “ Come, brethren, let us meet them. 
The cavalry will remain here as our reserve. The 
other troops will follow me to the Triebseer 
gate ! ” And he galloped into the narrow street 
leading to the gate, followed by his men. He 
was a picture of heroism as he rode at the head 
of his band, with his hair streaming in the wind, 
and his countenance beaming with courage. Turn- 
ing with a smile to Lieutenant Alvensleben, who 
was riding at his side, “ Oh,” he said, “ it seems to 
me as though a heavy load had been removed from 
my breast, and I could breathe freely again. The 
decisive struggle is at hand, and burdensome life 
will be resigned with joy. I shall die, my friend, 
die. Hurrah ! forward ! liberty is beckoning to 
me, glorious liberty ! ” 

He spurred his horse and galloped more rap- 
idly, Alvensleben remaining at his side. 

“ Friend,” exclaimed Schill, further on, “ when 
I am no more, defend me against my enemies, 
and greet my friends ! Take my last oath of 
fealty to the queen, and my last love-greeting 
to Germany, when she is free. Hurrah ! there 
comes the enemy! Let us sing an inspiring 
song ! ” And he sang in a loud voice : 

“ Tod du susser, fiir das Yaterland! 

Susser als der Brautgruss, als das Lallen 
Aiif dem Mutterschooss des ersten Kindes, 

Sei mir willkommon 1 ” 

“ Willkommen ! ” he cried again, and galloped 
more rapidly past the Dutch soldiers, who were 
just emerging from a side-street and cut him off 
from Alvensleben and his other followers. The 
enemy, commanded by the Dutch General Car- 
teret, was also approaching from the opposite 
street. The patriot galloped into the midst of the 
staff — his sabre flashed, and the general fell from 
his horse as if struck by lightning. Schill turned 
when he was unable to penetrate through this 
body of men obstructing the street. But another 
battalion had already formed behind him and cut 
him hopelessly off from assistance. His own men 
tried to reach him. Shouts, oaths, cries of defi- 
ance and fury, with the groans of the dying, 
rent the air. 

Schill saw that he was lost, that he was no 
longer able to save himself, his faithful men, or 
his fatherland ! There was no escape for him. 
Death was howling around him on all sides, panting 
for its prey. Suddenly the column of the enemy 
opened ; he saw the gap, and spurred his horse 
with a desperate effort, making him leap into the 
midst of the enemy. The Dutch soldiers fell 


QUEEN LOUISA. 

back in dismay, and Schill galloped by them 
into Fahr Street. Forward, as on the wings of a 
tempest, he hastened to the assistance of his men. 
A bullet hissed past him — another shot was 
fired. He wavered in the saddle ; the bullet fiad 
struck him 1 A detachment of Dutch soldiers 
were just coming up the street. The man head- 
ing them saw the pale Prussian officer, who was 
scarcely able to retain his seat. • 

“ It is Schill ! it is Schill ! ” he cried out, rush- 
ing forward. 

“ Hurrah, it is Schill ! ” shouted the others, aim- 
ing their muskets at him. Three shots were fired. 
The brave Prussian still kept the saddle, but his 
hand dropped the bridle, and the horse stood 
still. The Dutch chasseurs surrounded and cut 
him down. He lay helpless on the ground — that 
herculean man. He was still alive ; his eyes, that 
had so beamed with courage, cast their last glance 
toward heaven, and his lips, that smiled so 
sweetly, murmured, “ Tod du susser fur das Pa- 
terlandf ” A powerful sabre-stroke at last ended 
his life. His enemies despoiled his body, tearing 
off his decorations, and robbing him of a small 
crown of pearls and the memorandum-book, both 
gifts of the queen whom he loved so well, and for 
whom he fought so bravely. They seized the 
corpse and dragged it along the street in order 
to present it to their general. His hands were 
besmeared with mire ; his uniform torn by the 
brutal grasp of the conquerors, and his gory head 
trailed along the pavement. He was at last 
deposited in the vestibule of the city hall, where 
the meat-merchants of Stralsund trade on market 
days. 

A butcher’s bench was the catafalque of unfor- 
tunate Ferdinand von Schill, the martyr of Ger- 
man liberty 1 There he lay, a horrible spectacle, 
with broken limbs, a face deformed by bruises 
and sabre-gashes, and his eyes glaring to heaven 
as if in accusation of the ignominy of his death, 
and the brutality of his enemies. 


CHAPTER XLIX. 

THE PARADE AT SCHONBRUNN. 

Napoleon’s great victory at Wagram had put 
an end to the war with Austria, and destroyed 
only too speedily the hopes which the battle of 
Aspern or Esslingen had awakened in the hearts 
of the Germans. 

The Archduke Charles had gained at Aspem 


THE PARADE AT SCHONBRUNN. 


211 


half a victory ; and the fact that the Austrians had 
not been beaten — that Napoleon had been com- 
pelled to fall back with his army and to take 
refuge on the island of Lobau, was regarded as a 
victory, which was announced in the most boast- 
ful manner. But if it was a victory, the Austrians 
did not know how to profit by it. Instead of 
uniting their forces and attacking Lobau, where 
the French army was encamped, huddled together, 
and exhausted by the long and murderous strug- 
gle — where the French grenadiers were weeping 
over the death of their brave leader. Marshal 
Lannes, Duke of Montebello — where the wounded 
and defeated were cursing for the first time the 
emperor’s insatiable thirst for conquest— instead 
of surrounding the French army, or opening a 
cannonade upon them, the Archduke Charles fell 
farther back from the right bank of the Danube, 
and allowed his exhausted troops to rest and 
recover from the fatigue of the terrible battle 
that had lasted two days. While the Austrians 
were dressing their wounds, the French profited 
by the delay, and built new bridges, procured 
barges, left the island that might have been a 
graveyard for them, and reorganized their shat- 
tered forces. 

On the 6th of July, Napoleon took revenge at 
Wagram for the two days of Aspern, and wrested 
again from the Archduke Charles the laurels won 
at the latter place. Germany was in ecstasies 
after the battle of Aspern, but she bowed her 
head mournfully after that of Wagram. 

Napoleon was again the master of Germany ; and 
Austria, like the rest of the country, had to bow 
humbly to his imperious will. The “ first soldier 
of Aspern,” brave Prince John of Lichtenstein, 
was sent to Napoleon’s headquartei’S at Znaim to 
request an armistice and the opening of peace 
negotiations. Napoleon, whose armies were ex- 
hausted, whose attention, besides, was absorbed 
by the war in Spain, and who had found out at 
his late battles what resistance was now beginning 
to be made in Germany, granted the request, con- 
sented to a cessation of hostilities, and that the 
envoys of France and Austria should agree upon 
terms of peace. 

These negotiations had already been carried on 
for months, and no conclusion had yet been ar- 
rived at. Vienna was still a French city, and the 
Viennese had to submit to the rule of a new gov- 
ernor, and to the galling yoke imposed on them 
by a foreign police, who kept a close surveil- 
lance over every action — nay, every expression 
and look. They had to bow to stern necessity, 
and to celebrate Napoleon’s birthday, the 15th 
of August, by festivities and an illumination, as 


though it were the birthday of their own sover- 
eign. 

Napoleon was still residing at Schonbrunn, at 
the palace which Maria Theresa had built, and 
where she had signed the marriage-contract of her 
daughter Marie Antoinette with the Dauphin of 
France. Marie Antoinette had been guillotined, 
and the heir of the Revolution and of the French 
crown was now dwelling at her mother’s palace. 

Every morning the French Emperor reviewed 
his guards in the large palace-yard, and thousands * 
of the inhabitants of Vienna hastened regularly to 
Schonbrunn in order to see him and witness the 
parade. These morning reviews had become a 
favorite public amusement, and, when listening to 
the music of the French bands, and beholding the 
emperor (in his gray coat, with his broad brow 
covered with the three-cornered hat) gallop down 
the ranks of his troops, followed by the brilliant 
staff of his marshals and generals, amid shouts 
of “ Vive V Em'perexir the kind-hearted citizens 
sometimes forgot that it was their enemy who 
was displaying his power, and rejoicing in his am- 
bition ; instead of cursing, they admired him and 
his veterans, whose scars were the signs of many 
a victory. 

Napoleon was but too well aware of the influ- 
ence which these parades were exerting on the 
minds of the people; he knew the fascination 
which his person produced not only on his sol- 
diers, but the public generally, and he wished to 
profit by it, in order to conquer the civilians after 
conquering their army. Every one, therefore, had 
free access, and the subtle invader had always 
a kind glance and an affable smile with which to 
win their hearts. 

On the 13 th of October, as usual, a parade was 
to be held ; and the road leading to Vienna was 
early covered with carriages, horsemen, and pedes- 
trians, hastening to Schonbrunn. Among those 
hurrying along the high-road was a man of whom 
no one took any notice, with whom no one was 
conversing, and who, while all around were laugh- 
ing, and speaking of the parade, was pursuing his 
way in grave silence. His youthful countenance 
was sad and pale ; long, light hair was waving 
round his oval face. His eyes seemed on fire, and 
his thin, half-parted lips were quivering as though 
he were a prey to intense emotion. He was wrap- 
ped in a large black cloak reaching nearly to his 
feet ; a small black velvet cap covered his head. 
This strange figure looked like an apparition in 
the midst of the chatting crowd, the elegant car- 
riages, and dashing horsemen. All were too 
busily engaged with themselves, with the review, 
which was to be particularly brilliant, and with 


212 


IS^APOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


the emperor, who was not only to be present, but 
to command the troops. 

A few persons referred also to the hopes enter- 
tained of a speedy conclusion of peace, and regret- 
ted that they had not yet been fulfilled, while 
others conversed stealthily about the victories of 
the Tyrolese, and of noble and brave Andrew 
Eofer, who, with his faithful mountaineers, still 
dared to resist the French conqueror. The young 
man listened gravely and silently to all this con- 
versation. 

It was yet early when he reached the palace ; 
for the Viennese were anxious to get good places, 
and to be as near the emperor as possible, and 
therefore they had set out several hours before 
the parade was to commence. 

The young man glanced with an evident air of 
disappointment over the large, unoccupied space 
%vhich lay before him, and on which as yet not a 
man of the imperial guard was to be seen. “ ^Yill 
there be no parade to-day ? ” he asked a corpu- 
lent citizen of Vienna, who was standing at his side. 

“ Certainly, sir, there will be one,” said the cit- 
izen, with a self-important air. “ But it is very 
early yet, and an hour may elapse before the em- 
peror makes his appearance.” 

“ An hour yet ! ” exclaimed the young stranger, 
indignantly. “ I was told I had to be here early 
in order to witness the spectacle.”' 

“ You were correctly informed, sir. For if you 
want to see any thing, it is necessary to be here 
at this hour to secure a good place. Besides, the 
time you will have to wait will not be very tedious. 
The various regiments that are to participate in 
the parade will soon make their appearance ; then 
come the imperial guards, who form in line, and, 
finally, the emperor with his marshals. Oh, you 
ought to hear the shouts, the music of the band, 
and the roll of the drums when he appears ! You 
will certainly hear the noise, provided it does not 
make you deaf.” 

“ I think it will not,” said the young man, with 
a mournful smile. “ But tell me, shall we be able 
to see the emperor very near ? From which door 
will he make his appearance, and where does he 
generally take his position ? ” 

“He comes generally from the large portal 
yonder ; it is there that he mounts on horseback ; 
he then rides down the front of the soldiers, and 
halts a short time just here, where we are stand- 
ing. Those who desire to say any thing to him, 
or to deliver petitions, had better do so on this 
very spot. But come, let us go a little farther 
into the palace-yard, that we may see better.” 

“Very well, lead the way. I will follow,” said 
the young man. 


“ Come, then, sir.” And the kind-hearted cit- 
izen of Vienna elbowed himself through the 
crowd. 

The young conspirator followed him a few steps, _ 
and then halted. Instead of advancing farther 
he slipped back to his former place. 

“ No,” he muttered to himself, “ I must not 
stand close to, or converse with any one. I must 
be alone and an utter stranger, so as to cast sus- 
picion on no one else, and not to endanger the 
lives of innocent persons. The glory of the deed 
will belong to me alone, if it should succeed; l6t 
the penalty be inflicted on me alone, if it should 
fail.” He withdrew farther from the citizen who 
had spoken to him so courteously, and when he had 
entirely lost sight of him, he approached the pal- 
ace cautiously and from the opposite side. “ The 
blow must be struck at once,” he muttered. 

“ Every delay will involve me in fresh dangers, 
and my fate might be the same as that of the two 
brethren who drew the black balls last year. I 
drew the lot this time, and must accomplish what 
they were unable to perform.” 

The youthful stranger raised his eyes toward 
heaven, and a solemn earnestness beamed from 
his countenance. “Yes, I swear it by the mem- 
ory of Anna, and the tears she will soon shed for 
me, that I will not, like those two brethren, 
shrink from striking the blow. I drew the lot, 
and the president must repair the fault commit- 
ted by them. I must destroy the tyrant ! Heav- 
en, hear my oath and let my plan succeed ! ” He 
elbowed himself quickly through the crowd, and 
approached closer to the. entrance of the palace. 
Once, in the midst of the surging mass, his cloak 
was accidentally displaced, and something like a 
dagger-blade flashed from under it ; but hastily 
arranging his cloak, he glanced around with an 
air of uneasiness. No one paid any attention to 
him, for all eyes were fixed on the. imperial guard 
marching into line with a proud step, conscious 
that they were the favorites of the greatest gen- 
eral of the age, and the terror of the battle-field. 


CHAPTER L. 

NAPOLEON AT SCHONBRUNN. 

While the regiments were forming in the pal- 
ace-yard below, and the spectators were throng- 
ing about them, Napoleon was still in his cabinet. 
But he was not alone. Some of his adjutants 
and marshals were with him, and stood, like the 
emperor, in front of a table covered with strange 


NAPOLEON AT SOHONBRUNN. 


213 


articles. There lay a leg encased in a magnifi- 
cent hoot, a hand covered with a white glove, an 
arm clad in the sleeve of a uniform, by the side 
of which was a foot cut off close above the an- 
kle, and encased in a neat shoe. 

Napoleon contemplated these things with grave 
glances, and then turned his eyes toward a small 
man who was standing in humble attire and atti- 
tude, and who was no other than the celebrated 
mechanician and inventor of the metronome, 
Leonard Malzl. “ You are a genius indeed ! ” said 
the emperor, with an air of genuine admiration ; 
“ people did not say too much in calling you the 
most skilful member of your profession. You 
really suppose that it is possible to walk with 
such a leg ? ” And the emperor pointed at that 
lying on the table. 

“ Sire, I do not only suppose it, I know it,” said 
M. Malzl, gravely ; “ a man may use these limbs 
and feet as easily and naturally as though he were 
born with them. Please be so kind, your majes- 
ty, as to look at this.” M. Malzl took the article 
and placed it in front of a chair. “ Tour majesty 
sees that it is a foot with about half a leg. It 
is fastened with these two suspenders, that are 
thrown over the shoulders, and a man may then 
walk with it.” 

“ Yes, walk, but he would not be able to sit 
down.” 

“ Yes, he would, sire ; you touch this spring, 
and — your majesty sees, the knee bends and the 
upper part drops on the chair.” 

“ So it does ! ” exclaimed Napoleon, joyously, 
but suddenly his brow became dark and his eyes 
gloomy. “Alas,” he said, thoughtfully, “were 
Lannes still alive, I might have at least offered 
him a substitute for the limbs he lost.” He stared 
at the ingenious work, and stroking his face quick- 
ly said, “You assert, also, sir, that a man may use 
that hand, and hold any thing with it ? ” asked 
Napoleon, lifting up the neatly-gloved hand. 

“ Sire, it is just as good as one new-grown. — 
The human will controls every limb and moves 
these artificial fingers just as well as the natural 
ones. Will your majesty be so kind as to order 
me to take something from the table with this 
hand which you see now stretched out ? ” 

The emperor drew a ring, adorned with a large 
diamond, from his finger, and laid it on the table. 
“ Let the machine pick up this ring,” he said. 

Malzl took the hand, and, touching the spring 
fixed at the wrist, the fingers bent immediately and 
seized the ring. Napoleon looked humorously at 
his astonished marshals and generals. “ Now,^ 
gentlemen,” he said, “we need no longer be 
afraid of bullets, for if we lose the hands and , 


feet that God has given us, we can replace them 
by those made by Mr. Malzl.” 

“ Sire,” said Mr. Malzl, smiling, “will you con- 
vince yourself that my artificial hand cannot 
merely pick up, but also retain an object ? Will 
your majesty try to take the ring from it ?” 

Napoleon seized the ring, but the fingers held 
it with irresistible tenacity. “ Indeed, these are 
very sensible fingers,” exclaimed Napoleon ; 
“ they do not give up what they once get hold 
of.” 

“ Yes, sire, they will. I touch this spring, and 
the fingers open again.” 

“ No, no,” exclaimed the emperor, “ let them 
keep this time what they have, and wear the ring 
as a memento. I will allow them only to deliver 
it to their maker, who knows not only how to 
use his own hands so skilfully, but also to manu- 
facture serviceable ones for others. No thanks, 
sir ! we are greatly indebted to you, and not you 
to us, and it certainly behooves me to thank you 
in the name of the . brave soldiers whose lost 
limbs you replace so ingeniously. When the 
precious day of peace will come, people will be 
able to do without your invention, but I am afraid 
we shall not live to see that day. We are, I fear, 
always exposed to the horrors of war. Hence, 
your invention is a blessing that cannot be appre- 
ciated too highly, for, thanks to you, there will 
be fewer cripples and unsightly wooden legs. I 
shall issue orders to select five of the bravest and 
most deserving invalids from every regiment of 
my army, and you will restore to them their lost 
arms, legs, and hands, at my expense. Indeed, 
sir, you imitate the Creator, and the wonder 
would be complete if you knew also how to re- 
place lost heads.” 

“ Sire, I do know that, too,” said Malzl, smil- 
ing. 

“Yes, a head of wax or painted wood ! ” 

“ No, sire, a head that moves, opens, and 
closes its eyes, and — thinks.” 

“ A head that thinks ? ” exclaimed Napoleon, 
laughing. “Ah, that is a pretty strong assertion, 
which you could hardly prove.” 

“Pardon me, your majesty, I engage to furnish 
the proof.” 

“How so?” 

“ If your majesty will acknowledge that one 
must think in order to play a game of chess, then 
the artificial man in my possession is able to 
think.” 

“ Where have you that man with the thinking 
head ? ” 

“ Sire, I have caused my assistants to set it up 
in the adjoining room. But I must observe that 


214 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


this man was not made by myself ; it is the 
master-piece of the late Mr. Kempeler, a well- 
known mechanician, of whose son I bought my 
slave.” 

“ Ah,” said Napoleon, laughing, “ do you not 
know that the trade in human chattels is now pro- 
hibited in our civilized states ? But let us see your 
slave. — Come, gentlemen,” added Napoleon, turn- 
ing toward his marshals and adjutants, “ let us 
look at the work of this modern Prometheus.” He 
walked toward the door, but, before leaving the 
cabinet, he turned to the chamberlain : “ When 
the Duke de Cadore comes,- bring me word imme- 
diately.” He then stepped into the adjoining 
room, and the marshals and Mr. Malzl followed 
him. 

In the middle of the room, at a small table, on 
which was a chess-board, sat a neatly-dressed 
male figure, looking like a boy fourteen years old. 

“That, then, is the celebrated chess-player,” 
remarked Napoleon, advancing quickly. “ The 
face is made of wax, but who will warrant that 
there is not a human countenance concealed un- 
der it, and that this prepossessing and well-propor- 
tioned form does not really consist of flesh and 
blood ? ” 

“ Sire, this will convince your majesty that such 
is not the case,” said Malzl, touching a spring on 
the neck of the automaton, and taking the head 
from the trunk. 

“ You are right,” exclaimed Napoleon, laugh- 
ing, “ I am fully convinced. It is true many men 
are walking about without heads, but they are not 
so honest as to reveal the fact so openly as your 
automaton does.” 

“ Sire, will your majesty grant the favor of 
playing a game of chess with him ? ” asked Malzl, 
fastening on again the head of the automaton. 

“ What ! the thing will dare to play a game of 
chess with me ? ” 

“ With your majesty’s permission.” 

“ And alone ? ” 

“Yes, sire ; your majesty will permit me, how- 
ever, to take positipn behind the chair ? ” 

“ Certainly. I see the chessmen are already on 
the board ; let us commence.” The emperor sat 
down opposite the automaton, and saluted it with 
a pleasant nod. 

“ Well, comrade, let us commence,” said Napo- 
leon. 

The automaton made a graceful bow, and beck- 
oned to the emperor with its uplifted right hand, 
as though he wished him to commence. 

“Well, I shall commence,” said Napoleon, 
advancing a pawn. 

The automaton took the pawn in front of the 


king and advanced it two squares. The emperor 
made another move, and so did his opponent. 
Looking smilingly at the figure, Napoleon played 
his black bishop as a knight, occupying the ob- 
lique white square. The automaton, shaking its 
head, put the bishop on the square it ought to oc- 
cupy. 

“Ah, it does not like cheating,” exclaimed 
Napoleon, laughing ; “ it is a very earnest and 
conscientious player.” And the emperor made 
another move. The automaton continued the 
game. Another attempt was made to cheat by 
moving the castle in an oblique direction. His 
adversary took the castle with an impetuous ges- 
ture and placed it aside like a pawn it had won. 

“ It very properly punishes me,” said the em- 
peror. “We must play seriously.” 

The game proceeded. It became more and 
more intricate ; the chances were soon in favor of 
the automaton, and the emperor was in danger of 
losing the game. Forgetting who was his antago- 
nist, he remembered only that he was about to 
lose a game, and became serious. He played 
hastily, and for the third time tried to cheat by 
moving a knight contrary to the rules. The au- 
tomaton shook its head vehemently, and upset the 
whole chess-board. 

“ Ah, it refuses to continue the game,” exclaim- 
ed Napoleon ; “ it despises my swindling, and for- 
gets that it is itself a swindle. You may be thank- 
ful, M. Malzl, that we are no longer in the middle 
ages ; formerly they would have burned you at the 
stake as a sorcerer, attempting to do what God 
alone is able to do.” 

“ Sire, permit me to repeat that this machine 
was not made by myself, but by Kempeler. But I 
hope your majesty will permit me to show you my 
own automaton, and allow it to indulge in a httle 
music before you.” 

“ Where is it ? ” 

“ Here,” said Malzl, opening the closed curtains 
of one of the windows, and pointing at the hand- 
some figure visible behind them. 

“ Ah, a postilion ! ” exclaimed Napoleon, “ and 
it will blow us a tune on the bugle ? ” 

“ Sire, it begs leave to play the Marseillaise to 
your majesty,” said Malzl, moving the figure on 
rollers into the middle of the room. 

“ Let it commence,” said Napoleon. 

The postilion raised its arm, seized the bugle 
hanging on a silken string around its neck, put it 
to its mouth and commenced blowing. 

At this moment the door of the cabinet opened ; 
the chamberlain entered and approached the em- 
peror. “ Sire,” he said, “ the Duke de Cadore has 
just arrived and begs to be admitted.” 


NAPOLEON AT SCHONBRUNN. 


215 


“ Conduct him immediately into my cabinet,” 
replied Napoleon, rising hastily. He then beck- 
oned the mechanician to his side. “ Let your pos- 
tilion still play to the marshals. As to your 
chess-player, I must buy it of you. Tou may 
spply to Grand-Marshal Duroc for the money. 
In order to punish the automaton for nearly beat- 
ing me at the game, I will buy it, and it is hence- 
forth to be my slave.” * 

“ Sire, that is no punishment, but a reward, for 
which I beg leave to thank you in the name of my 
chess-player.” 

“ You have invented a most acceptable substi- 
tute for such of my invalids as have lost arms or 
legs,” said the emperor ; “ now you must invent 
something else for me, and come to the assistance 
of the wounded on the battle-field. Make me the 
model of an ambulance into which the disabled 
can be placed safely and comfortably, and which 
is arranged in such a manner that it may be taken 
asunder and transported on horseback with the 
train of the army. You are an inventive genius, 
and I shall expect you with your model in the 
course of a week. Now let your postilion blow 
again. Good-by!” He waved his hand kindly 
to the mechanician, and then hastened back into 
his cabinet. The Duke de Cadore was there al- 
ready, and saluted the emperor with a low bow. 

“Well, Champagny,” exclaimed Napoleon, 
quickly, “ do you not yet bring us peace ? ” 

“ No, sire, the ambassadors of Austria refuse pe- 
remptorily to accept the terms proposed to them.” 

“ Ah,” exclaimed the emperor, menacingly, 
“those Austrians believe they can bid me de- 
fiance. They have not yet been humbled enough, 
although I have defeated their army, foiled the 
plans of their commander-in-chief, expelled their 
emperor from his capital, and am residing at his 
palace. They wish for further humiliations, and 
they shall have them. If they do not change their 
mind very speedily, I shall send for the Grand- 
duke of Wurzburg and adorn his head with the 
imperial crown of Austria.” 

“ Sire, that would be replacing one puppet by 
another, but not removing the men pulling the 
wires; and they are all animated by the same 
epirlt. Prince Lichtenstein and Count Bubna are 
no less inflexible than was Count Metternich. It 
is true they have already yielded in some points, 
and declared to-day that the Emperor Francis had 
authorized them to accept some of the conditions 
proposed.” 

* This chess-player, which Napoleon bought of Miilzl, 
remained at the Yilla Bonaparte, near Milan, until 1812, 
when it was removed to Paris, where it is at the present 
time. 


“ Which ? ” asked Napoleon, hastily. 

“ The emperor is ready to cede to France Dal- 
matia and Croatia, the territories demanded by 
your majesty.” 

“Well!” exclaimed Napoleon, “we obtain 
thereby the chief point. I shall extend the terri- 
tory of France to the Save, and become the im- 
mediate neighbor of Turkey. Let the Emperor 
of Russia try then to carry his plans against 
Constantinople into effect : France will know how 
to protect her neighbor, and her troops will al- 
ways be ready to defend the Porte. When I 
have extended my frontiers into the interior of 
Dalmatia and Croatia, Russia’s influence in the 
Orient is paralyzed, and France will be all-power- 
ful in Constantinople. What is it that Aus- 
tria refuses after granting our principal de- 
mands ? ” f 

“ Sire, she consents further to cede to Bavaria 
part of Upper Austria, namely : Salzburg, Berch- 
tesgaden, and part of the district of the Inn and 
Hausruck, but she refuses to give up one-half of 
Upper Austria, which we claimed; she refuses fur- 
ther to cede to Saxony such large territories in 
Bohemia, and to Russia in Galicia, as was demand- 
ed by your majesty.” 

“We may yield a little as to these points,” 
said Napoleon. “It is always better to make 
exorbitant demands, because it is easier then to 
abate, and appear accommodating. I do not at- 
tach, moreover, any great value to the enlarge- 
ment of Bavaria, Saxony, and Russia. Only the 
aggrandizement of France by the extension of our 
frontiers to the boundaries of Turkey was to be 
the object of our ambition. Having attained this, 
we will yield as to the cession of other territories, 
and be satisfied with less, provided that Austria 
accept unreservedly q,nd fully the two other con- 
ditions I refer to,” 

“ Your majesty refers to the reduction of the 
Austrian army, and the war contribution of one 
hundred millions of francs, which we have de- 
manded.” 

“Which we have demanded, and which must 
be paid, unless they wish me to resume hostil- 
ities,” said Napoleon, menacingly. 

“Sire, these are the two points as to which 
Austria shows the greatest reluctance,” said Cham- 
pagny, shrugging his shoulders. “ She contends 
that a reduction of her army, brought about by 
the imperious demands of France, is incompatible 
with the honor and dignity of her emperor; and 
further, that she is unable to pay a war contribu- 
tion of one hundred millions of francs.” 

“ She dares then to reject my demands ! ” ex- 
claimed Napoleon, with a gloomy air. “ She will 


216 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


compel me to recommence the war for the sake 
of a few miserable millions of francs ! ” 

“ Sire, Austria makes counter-propositions, and 
hopes that an understanding will be arrived at. 
She promises to reduce her army considerably in 
the course of six months, to disband the militia, 
and to place the regiments on a peace footing. 
She further offers one-half of the sum which we 
have demanded, namely, fifty millions.” 

“ And she believes that I will be satisfied with 
that?” said Napoleon. “She attempts to beat 
me down as though I were a British shopkeeper? 
She dares to offer me one-half, and talks to me 
about the honor and dignity of her emperor ! As 
if it did not depend on me to trample under foot 
his honor and dignity, and to cast the imperial 
crown of Austria into the waves of the Danube, or 
to place it on my own head, just as I prefer !” 

“ Sire, I believe the Emperor Francis is fully 
aware of the danger menacing him, and he is con- 
scious, too, that his dynasty is at stake in these 
negotiations. I do not believe, therefore, that 
hostilities will break out again, owing to his reluc- 
tance to submit to these two conditions.” 

“ I shall not yield,” said Napoleon, “ although 
it seems to me disgraceful to commence another 
war for the sake of fifty millions, and when I know 
that my own army is in need of repose. I — ” 
The emperor interrupted himself, and listened to 
the clock, which struck twelve. “ Indeed, it is al- 
ready twelve o’clock 1 My guard must have been 
waiting for me in the palace-yard for some time.” 
He stepped to the window and looked down. 
“ My splendid guard has already formed in line,” 
he said, “ and there is a vast crowd of spectators 
from Vienna to see the parade.” 

“ To see your majesty,” corrected Champagny, 
approaching the window at a sign made by the 
Napoleon. 

“ Just look at that crowd ! ” said the emperor, 
smiling. “ There are at least three thousand men 
who have come hither to see me and my soldiers, 
and they do not belong exclusively to the lower 
classes, as is proved by the large number of car- 
riages, the numerous elegant horsemen, and by the 
windows yonder.” He pointed at the windows of 
the opposite wing of the palace; and when the 
minister turned his eyes, he beheld a large number 
of ladies, whose toilet seemed to indicate that they 
belonged to the higher classes of society. 

“ See 1 ” said the emperor, “that beautiful lady 
in the ermine dress ; it is the Princess von Fiirst- 
enberg, and the lady at her side is the wife of 
Field-Marshal von Bellegarde. They requested 
Bausset to lend them one of his windows, that 
they might witness the parade. The ladies at 


their side are all members of the highest aristcc- 
racy, and the citizens and the populace generally 
are in the yard below. You see, these good peo- 
ple regard us no longer as enemies ; they love and 
esteem us, and perhaps it would be wdsest and 
best for me to claim the crown of Austria in order 
to put an end to all further quarrels. The Aus- 
trians, it seems to me, would be content with it. 
Well, we shall see further about it ! I will not 
make the ladies, the populace, and, above all, my 
soldiers, wait longer. You may remain here in 
my cabinet. There is a note on the table which I 
want you to finish. I shall return soon.” 

The emperor took his hat, and, opening the 
door leading into the adjoining room, he called 
out : “ Gentlemen of the staff — ^to the parade 1 ” 


'CHAPTER U. 

FREDEKICK STAPS. 

The bands played, and shouts of “ Vive VEm- 
pereur ! ” burst from the troops. Napoleon had 
emerged from the palace door,' and the welcome 
was as a sunbeam brightening ' his cold and 
emotionless face. He slowly descended the steps 
of the outside staircase, with his eyes on the 
soldiers, and he did not notice the young man 
who stood below, presenting to him a petition 
with his left hand, while he concealed his right 
under his cloak. 

“Sire,” said the young man, loudly and urgent- 
ly, “ sire, here is a petition, and I request your 
majesty to listen to me for a moment. I— ” 

Napoleon passed on the other side without hav- 
ing heard these words. The youth, holding the 
petition still in his hand, was about to follow him, 
but Marshal Bessieres, wLo walked behind, kept 
him back. “ If you present a petition to the em- 
peror,” he said, “ w^ait here until the parade is 
over, when he will return this way.” The mar- 
shal proceeded, but the young man took no notice 
of his order, and mingled boldly with the emper- 
or’s suite. 

General Rapp at length laid his hand on the 
youth’s shoulder, and said : 

“ Sir, you must withdraw. This ip no place for 
you.” 

“ I have to present a petition to the emperor 
whieh cannot be delayed,” said the young man, 
in a gentle voice, “ pray permit me to give it to 
him at once.” 

“ I tell you it is out of place here,” exclaimed 


FREDERICK STAPS. 


21 ? 


the general, vehemently. Beckoning to one of 
the second lieutenants, he said : “ Conduct this 
man away from here.” 

“ Come, sir,” said the lieutenant ; “ stand back, 
soldiers ; let this man pass.” In spite of himself, 
he was soon hurried to the rear. 

“ I must attain my object — I must fulfil my 
oath,” he muttered to himself. “ Napoleon must 
die to-day, and Frederick Staps shall be his ex- 
ecutioner. Forward!” He elbowed llimself 
through the crowd that had assembled behind 
the soldiers, and, standing on tiptoe, tiled to 
descry the emperor and his marshals while walk- 
ing into the semicircle formed by the troops. 

No one noticed that, seeing a passage in the 
ranks of the soldiers, Staps advanced, cautiously 
and quickly as a snake, until he was again inside 
the semicircle. “Fate is favorable to me,” he 
muttered, “ and the moment is at hand when I 
will deliver Germany 1 ” He approached the em- 
peror, who was just coming down the front from 
the other side. ’ “ Sire,” he exclaimed, stretching 
out his paper toward Napoleon, “ take my peti- 
tion, and listen to me a few minutes.” 

The emperor looked for a moment on the pale 
countenance of the young man. “ I do not un- 
derstand you,” he said ; “ apply to General 
Rapp.” 

Staps apparently had not heard Napoleon’s 
words ; he approached still closer, and put his 
right hand under his cloak. “ Sire,” listen to 
me,” he exclaimed, “ I — ” A strong hand grasp- 
ed his arm and pushed him back. 

“ Did you not hear that you are to apply to 
General Rapp ? ” asked Marshal Bessieres. “ Why 
did you come the second time to a place where 
you do not belong ? Leave immediately, or you 
will be arrested I ” 

“ I am going,” muttered Staps, and turned to 
pass through the ranks of the soldiers. 

At this moment a dark suspicion arose in the 
mind of Bessieres, for which he was unable to 
give any good reasons, but which alarmed him. 
He beckoned to two soldiers, and, pointing at 
Staps, who was pressing his way outside, he said, 
“ Arrest that man, and bring him hither 1 ” His 
order was obeyed in a moment, and the soldiers, 
holding Staps by the arms, dragged him to the 
marshal, whom the Duke de Rovigo and General 
Rapp had now joined. 

“ Why did you have me arrested, general ? ” 
asked Staps, in a firm, calm voice. 

“Because I distrust you,” replied Bessieres. 
“ Take off your cloak I ” 

Staps hesitated. “Take off your cloak!” re- 
peated Bessieres ; and, not obeying, the soldiers 


violently tore the cloak from his shoulders, and, 
as they did so, something flashed. It was the 
blade of a large knife, in a belt with which he 
had fastened his black velvet coat. 

“ He is saved and I am lost ! ” muttered Staps 
to himself, and dropped his head on his breast. 

“ What is the meaning of this knife ? ” asked 
General Rapp. “ What did you want to do 
with it?” 

Staps slowly raised his head and lifted up his 
arm to point at the emperor, who was standing 
but a few steps from them. 

“ I intended to punish him,” he said, sol- 
emnly. 

“ All assassin ! an assassin ! ” cried the mar- 
shals, in dismay, thronging around him. 

The emperor, perhaps, had heard these cries, 
for he approached. 

“ What is going on here ? ” he asked, as his 
eyes turned to the pale face of the young man. 

“ Sire,” said Bessieres, with an air of horror, 
“you see here a criminal who was about to assas- 
sinate you ! Here is the knife with which he 
intended to perpetrate the deed.” 

Not a feature of the emperor’s countenance 
changed ; not a muscle quivered or betrayed any 
inward emotion. “ Hush,” he said, in a low, im- 
perious voice. “ Take the man into the palace ! 
I will examine him after the parade is over. Let 
Savary and Rapp accompany him. — Come, mar- 
shals ! ” 

While Savary and Rapp, with the soldiers who 
surrounded Staps, hastened into the palace, Na- 
poleon, escorted by his marshals, walked slowly 
down the front. He did not finish the parade a 
minute earlier than usual. Ascending the stair- 
case, he stobd on the landing, and received again 
the salutations of the 'military. He then stepped 
into the lower hall of the palace. But there he 
accelerated his steps, and, hurrying through the 
anterooms, entered the apartment contiguous to 
his cabinet. 

An hour had passed since he had admired, in 
this room, M. Malzl’s chess-player and postilion, 
and now he looked wonderingly at the young 
man who had tried to assassinate him. “ He is 
really but a child, and looks very innocent,” ex- 
claimed the emperor, shrugging his shoulders ; 
“ I do not believe that he is an assassin.” 

“ Sire, here is the knife that was found on 
his person,” said Savary, handing it to the em- 
peror. 

“ That is, indeed, a strong proof of his inten- 
tion,” replied Napoleon. “But who tells you 
that this knife was designed for me ? I will my- 
self speak to the man. Rapp, are you sufficiently 


218 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


familiar with the German language to be my 
interpreter ? ” 

“ Yes, sire, I speak German.” 

“ Come, then,” said the emperor, quickly ap- 
proaching Staps, whose hands had been tied be- 
hind him. 

“ Whence do you come, and what is your 
name ? ” 

“I come from Naumburg, and my name is 
Frederick Staps,” was the calm reply. 

“ What is your father ? ” 

“He is a clergyman.” 

“A clerg}T3ian ! and he has taught his son so 
little religion ! For I am told you intended to 
assassinate me. Is that true ? ” 

“ It was the last means that I had resolved 
upon to save my unfortunate native land,” replied 
Staps, in a gentle voice. “ But before doing so, 
I was determined to try another.” 

“ What ? ” 

“ To implore you, in the name of my country, 
humanity, and your own future, to give peace to 
the world,” responded Staps, enthusiastically. 
“ I hoped that Heaven would impart strength to 
my words, so that they would be able to move 
your heart ; that your eyes would see the foun- 
tains of blood your accursed hand has opened on 
the peaceful plains of Germany ; that the armies 
of the dead lying in our fields might satisfy your 
desire for war. Sire, have mercy on Germany and 
on yourself! There are thousands of unburied 
corpses accusing Napoleon as their murderer I 
Our cities and villages are filled with weeping 
mothers, and widows, and children, arraigning you 
as the destroyer of their sons, husbands, and 
fathers 1 Sire, have mercy on your own con- 
science, and restore peace to the world 1 ” 

“ He is assuredly insane,” murmured Napoleon 
to himself. At this moment he cast his eyes on a 
miniature, fastened to a string, and lying on the 
table. 

“ What locket is that ? ” he asked. 

“ Sire, ” replied Kapp, “ we took it from the 
assassin ; he wore it on his neck.” , 

Napoleon examined it. It contained the por- 
trait of a beautiful woman. “ Whose portrait is 
it?” 

“ Sire,” said Staps, in a solemn voice, “ it is 
the portrait of my betrothed — my dearly beloved 
Anna.” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed the emperor. “ You 
have a sweetheart — you have a mother and a 
father — you are in the flower of your life — and 
yet you intended to commit so horrible a crime I 
For you will not deny that murder is a crime.” 

“ Murder in ordinary cases is one of the great- 


est crimes,” said Staps, in his calm, gentle voice. 
“ But to take your life — to rid the world of Napo- 
leon — is no murder and no crime ; it is an act of 
justice — nay, it is a sacred duty ! If I had killed 
you, no one would have called me an assassin ; my 
attempt is criminal because it did not succeed. 
That is what one of our own great poets says 
concerning certain actions : ^ 

‘ Conceived and unsuccessful— there’s the crime ! 
Accomplished, it becomes a deed immortal. 

And what succeeds will surely be forgiven, 

For God’s o^vn verdict lies in the result! ’ ” * 

“ And God, then, has decided against you,” 
said Napoleon, quickly. 

“No, God delays only the execution of the 
blow, and perhaps I am not the right instrument 
He will choose another, and my successors will 
know better how to find your heart. Believe me, 
the Germans know how to do their duty ; and to 
rid Germany of her tyrant, and restore peace to 
her people, is their duty.” 

“You have read a good deal, I suppose?” 
asked the emperor. “ And it seems books have 
exeited your imagination. What were your fa- 
vorite works ? ” 

“ Sire, historical works,” said Staps, calmly. 
“ I derived from them the courage required for 
my deed.’’ 

“You know something of Brutus, then?” 
asked Napoleon, with a compassionate smile. 

“ There were two Brutuses. The last Brutus 
killed the tyrant, and died for liberty. Mankind 
have not ceased admiring him, as France has not 
ceased admiring the Maid of Orleans. She deliv- 
ered her country from its enemies, but she was 
captured, and perished. I intended to do what 
that heroic maid did — save my native land from 
oppression, but God decreed that her destiny, and 
not her deed, should be mine.” 

Does your father know of your folly ? ” 

“Neither he nor my betrothed, nor any one 
else, knew of my purpose. I came hither alone, 
and alone I intended to accomplish it. Not until 
I had succeeded was its revelation to be made. 
And the news would have come to those I love as 
a pledge of peace — that the deluge of blood was 
over, and Germany saved 1 ” 

“ Your father and your betrothed will now 
receive bad tidings of you. Are you not afraid 
of grieving them ? ” 

“ Both of them will weep for me — ^so will many 

* “ Gedacbt bloss nnd missgliickt— ist’s nur ein Frevel , 
Vollbracht, ist’s ein unsterblich TJnternebmen, 

Und was nur gliickt, das wird dann aucb verzieben, 
Denn jeder Ausgang— ist ein Gottes-Urtbeil 1 ” 

SCHILLEE. 


FREDERICK STAPS. 


219 


other Germans, and their tears will water the 
flowers upon my grave.” 

“ You believe, then, that I shall have you exe- 
cuted ? ” 

“ I should consider it but natural for you.” 

“ But it may please me to pardon you. Tell 
me, in that case, what you would do ? ” 

“Accomplish my purpose,” rephed Staps, 
calmly. “ I have sworn to kill you. I must ful- 
fil my oath or die ! ” 

“Ah, you have either a morbid mind or a mor- 
bid body ! ” exclaimed Napoleon, vehemently. 

“ No, I have neither one nor the other,” re- 
plied Staps, composedly ; “ my mind is healthy, 
and so is my body.” 

“ Send for Corvisart,” ordered the emperor, 
turning to his suite. “ But let no one dare tell 
him what is transpiring here.” 

An adjutant hastened out, and Napoleon turned 
again to Staps. “ Are you a freemason or one 
of the Illuminati ? ” 

“ Neither.” 

“Did you ever hear of Moreau and Piche- 
gru? ” 

“I did.” 

“ And what do you think of these men, who 
tried to take my life ?, ” 

“ I think that they were afraid of death.” 

“ Did you know Schill and Dbrnberg ? ” 

Staps hesitated a moment, and replied: “I 
knew Schill. I saw him on the day after the bat- 
tle of Jena, and we swore to devote our thoughts, 
our energies, and our lives, to the German father- 
land, and never to grow weary in our struggle 
against the tyrant. There were three of us who 
took this oath. The first was Count Piickler, 
who shot himself; the second was shot, Ferdinand 
von Schill ; the third will also be shot, Frederick 
Staps ! ” 

“ He is insane,” repeated Napoleon, shudder- 
ing involuntarily at the tranquillity of the pris- 
oner. 

The door opened, and the emperor’s physician, 
M. de Corvisart, entered. 

“ Corvisart, come hither,” the emperor said, 
vehemently. “ Examine this young man, and tell 
me what is the matter with him.” The marshals 
and generals stepped aside, and the physician 
approached the prisoner, whose hands had been 
untied a moment previously. “Examine his 
pulse, Corvisart ; examine him carefully and tell 
me whether he has a fever, or is insane.” 

Staps quietly stretched out his hand ; Corvi- 
sart took it and laid his fingers on the pulse. 
Silence reigned in the room. The marshals and 
generals in full imiform surrounded the group ; 


in the midst stood the emperor, whose face was 
sadder to-day than usual ; at his side was Staps, 
with his gentle countenance and radiant look 
turned toward heaven, his right hand resting in 
that of the physician, who marked every pulsation 
with profound attention. 

It was a scene worthy an artist’s pencil. All 
were looking at the physician and waited breath- 
lessly for his decision. 

“ Sire,” said Corvisart, after a long pause, “ this 
young man is in perfectly good health ; his 
pulse is regular ; there is nothing indicative of in- 
sanity in his eyes ; his complexion is good, and in 
fact there is nothing in his appearance to denote 
the slightest indisposition.” 

“Ah,” exclaimed Staps, with a triumphant 
smile, “ you see that I was right. I am neither 
insane nor ill.” 

Napoleon stamped with anger, as his eyes 
flashed fire. “ He is insane, Corvisart ! ” he ex- 
claimed ; “ examine him again.” 

Corvisart ‘did so, and in a short time said : 
“ Sire, I cannot but repeat my previous state- 
ment ; I do not find a trace of fever or insanity. 
His pulse is perfectly regular.” 

“Well, then,” said Napoleon, frowning, “this 
healthy person just tried to assassinate me ! ” 

“Assassinate you ! ” ejaculated Corvisart in dis- 
may. “ Unfortunate young man, what could in- 
duce you to attempt such a crime ? ” 

“The misfortunes and sufierings of my coun- 
try,” replied Staps. “I desired to deliver it from 
the tyrant who has been bringing misery, dis- 
grace, and degradation on Germany for the last 
ten years. My attempt was vain, but some one 
else will succeed in what I have failed to ac- 
complish. I have no actual accomplices, but the 
heart of every German is my accomphce, and the 
knife which dropped from my hand to-day will 
fall into another’s. All Germany is in conspiracy. 
You may kill me, but thousands are ready to do 
what I failed to accomplish.” 

The emperor indeed listened to such words, 
but with a dark and angry countenance. He 
beckoned the Duke de Rovigo to his side. 

“ Savary,” he said, “ take this boy away, and 
subject him to a close examination. Try to dis- 
cover his accomphces. If he name them, I will 
pardon him.” 

“ Sire, you have the right to execute me, but I 
do not give you the right to despise me,” ex- 
claimed Staps. 

“Take him away!” repeated the emperor, 
“and report to me what he says.” Saluting 
the marshals with a wave of his hand, and, cast- 
ing a last glance on Stap's, he walked by and 


220 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


opened the door of the cabinet, where Minister 
Champagny was awaiting his return. 

“ Champagny,” said the emperor, wearily sit- 
ting down on an easy-chair, “ did you not tell me 
the Prince von Lichtenstein had informed you that 
frequent propositions to assassinate me had been 
made to him ? ” 

“Yes, sire,” replied Champagny, “and the 
prince told me he had invariably rejected them 
with horror.” 

“ Nevertheless, an attempt has been made. A 
young man, scarcely -twenty years old, with the 
face of a sick girl, came hither to-day to stab me 
with a kitchen-knife, as he would a goose or a 
calf.” 

“ Merciful Heaven, that is terrible ! ” exclaimed 
Champagny, turning pale. “ The life of your ma- 
jesty was really endangered, then ? ” 

“ If the knife which an assassin aims at your 
breast endangers your life, mine was endangered,” 
said the emperor, with a gloomy smile. “ It seems 
my marshals were somewhat distrustful, and did 
not believe so confidently in the love and ad- 
miration of the spectators as I did, and that 
saved my life.” 

“ It is, perhaps, only a false suspicion, sire ; 
the knife, it may be, was not intended for your 
majesty.” 

“ Oh, it was ! I personally examined the young 
man. He confesses his purpose ; he boasts of it, 
and says if I pardoned him he would attempt the 
same thing.” 

“ Horrible ! ” exclaimed Champagny. . 

“Yes, horrible !” repeated the emperor, mus- 
ingly, “the more so as he assures me with the 
utmost tranquillity that every German shares his 
hatred of me ; that the whole land is but a hot- 
bed of conspiracy, and that thousands of hands 
are already armed to pierce my heart. And this 
young man is in perfect health, bodily and men- 
tally, according to Corvisart, who twice examined 
him; his pulse is regular, and not in the least 
feverish. Ah, these Germans have gall in their 
veins instead of blood ! They are fanatics, and of 
such we ought to beware.” He dropped his head 
on his breast. After some time he turned toward 
the minister, who was sitting opposite him in re- 
spectful silence. “ Champagny,” he said, hastily, 
“ we must make peace. I am bent on putting an 
end to the war, and on leaving the country. Eeturn 
to Vienna, and send immediately for the Austrian 
plenipotentiaries. You have already agreed as to 
the chief points ; it is the war contribution alone 
that still prevents both sides from coming to a 
definite understanding. You ask for fifty mil- 
lions more than the Austrians offer to pay ; well. 


compromise with them ; induce the ambassadors 
to assent to the payment of seventy-five millions, 
and make peace. I am satisfied with the stipu- 
lations of the last draft of the treaty ; add to it 
whatever you may deem prudent. I rely al- 
together on you ; but, at all events, make peace ! 
Hasten to Vienna. Good-by.” 

The Duke de Cadore left the emperor’s cabinet. 
Napoleon was still moodily sitting in his easy- 
chair, when he murmured : “Ah, these Germans ! 
They cannot be trusted! They are dangerous 
fanatics, capable of perpetrating the foulest and 
most cowardly crime, and of sanctifying it on the 
altar of duty.” 


CHAPTER LII. 

AN EXECUTION. 

Napoleon had passed a sleepless night. The 
image of this pale youth, with his determined 
patriotism, who frankly confessed that his object 
had been assassination, and regretted that the 
attempt was unsuccessful, stood as a grim senti- 
nel by the emperor’s couch, forbidding sleep to 
his eyes or peace to his mind. 

It was scarcely dawn when he rose, sad and 
weary, and called his valet de chamhre to dress 
him. His lips scarcely touching the cup of choc- 
olate presented to him, he pushed it impatiently 
aside. Contrary to his usual manner with the 
servants, he left his bedroom without a pleasant 
glance or a kind word, and repaired to his cabinet. 
The candelabras on the mantel-piece were lit, 
for it was still dark ; and a bright fire w’as burn- 
ing, but the room was not yet warm. 

“ Germany is a cold, disagreeable country,” ex- 
claimed Napoleon, shuddering, and warming his 
feet at the fire. “ "We are only in the early part 
of October, but it is already like mid-winter. The 
sun himself seems to put on the sheep-skin which 
every German puUs over his ears. In truth, it is 
a wretched country ; I wish I could turn my back 
on it to-morrow, and abid adieu to these wild 
dreamers. AVhen so slow and cold-blooded a na- 
tion gets excited, it resembles a bull in the arena, 
whose fury is kindled by a red handkerchief. 
Such is Germany at this time, and I must step out 
of the way if I do not wish to be pierced or 
trampled to death. That would be inglorious ! ” 

A low rapping at the door was heard. The 
emperor started. “ Come in ! ” he shouted, in an 
imperious voice. 

The door opened immediately, and Constant ap- 


AN EXECUTION. 


221 


peared. “ Pardon me, sire, but it is so early that 
none of the chamberlains are yet in the ante- 
room.” 

“Well, what is it?” asked Napoleon, impa- 
tiently. “ Quick, what is the matter ? ” 

“Sire, the Duke de Cadore has just arrived 
from Vienna and desires to be admitted.” 

“ Show him in immediately,” ordered the em- 
peror, who, in his impatience, hurried to the door 
to receive the minister. 

Champagny entered, carrying under his arm a 
large portfolio. 

“ Well, Champagny, what brings you hither at 
so early an hour ? What has occurred ? What 
did you do last night ? ” 

“ Sire,” said Champagny, composedly, “ I have 
made jDeace.” 

“ What ? Peace ! ” exclaimed Napoleon, and 
his countenance brightened, as if the morning had 
suddenly cast on him its earliest golden beams. 
“ Peace ! And the treaty has already been 
signed ? ” 

“Yes, sire, and I bring it to your majesty.” 

“ Signed ! But how did you do thtit ? ” 

“ Sire, as soon as I reached Vienna last night, 
I sent for the Prince von Lichtenstein and Count 
Bubna, and locked myself with them in my room. 
We had a long and exciting discussion; but I 
saw that the plenipotentiaries had received fresh 
instructions from their emperor, and that he had 
ordered them to make peace. I extorted million 
by million from them ; at one o’clock in the morn- 
ing I had already made them consent to the pay- 
ment of seventy-five millions, the sum demanded 
by your majesty ; but I saw that I could go far- 
ther, and I did. At two o’clock I succeeded in a 
war contribution of eighty-five millions, and with 
that I was satisfied.” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed the emperor, gayly ; “ you 
have obtained eighty-five millions when I told you 
I would be content with seventy-five millions ! 
That was well done, Champagny, and I am highly 
pleased with your conduct. Give me the treaty. 
I wish to read it.” 

Champagny handed the emperor the papers, 
and he read them attentively. “Very well,” he 
said, when he had finished, and with a smile — 
“ we have accomplished, indeed, a very favorable 
peace. Austria has concluded four treaties with 
me within the last twelve years, but I must con- 
fess that this is the most advantageous to us — 
more so than the treaties of Campo Eormio, Lune- 
ville, and Presburg. Austria loses two thousand 
square leagues, with three millions and a half of 
inhabitants, and pays us a war contribution of 
eighty-five millions of francs. I think France 


may be thankful, for, from this campaign, we 
bring her territory, money, and glory. We have 
done with Austria; and the insurgents of the 
Tyrol, headed by their peasant-prince, Andrew 
Hofer, will likewise have to submit. Their own 
emperor will command the insurgents to lay down 
their arms. But I will make an example, and 
show the world how such people ought to be chas- 
tised. Andrew Hofer must be delivered to me ; 
he must be punished as a demagogue ! Come, 
Champagny, let us lose no time. I will sign the 
treaty. It is very good. I am content with it,” 
He stepped to his desk and hastily aflixed his 
signature. He then cast the pen aside, and his 
features assumed an expression of proud scorn. 
“ Henceforth Austria is nothing but a vassal of 
France, and I can annihilate her whenever I 
please. Her frontiers are open and unprotected 
on all sides ; she is weakened within and without, 
and hemmed in everywhere by French territories. 
She dares no longer breathe freely, or raise her 
arm against us. If, however, she should, we shall 
crush her, and reconstruct the throne of Charle- 
magne on the ruins of Austria. His crown be- 
longs to me already ; I have it at Aix-la-Chapelle, 
and I do not see what should prevent me from 
placing it on my brow in Vienna.” 

“ Sire,” said Champagny, smilingly, “ it would, 
perhaps, be more desirable for your majesty to 
allow the throne of the Hapsburgs to exist, and 
to render Austria harmless, not by destroying 
her, but by attaching the imperial family to your 
majesty by intimate and sacred ties. A van- 
quished enemy is always dangerous ; but an ally, 
even though weak, will strengthen your own 
power, and Austria is able to give to the throne 
of your majesty the last and only jewel that, to 
the infinite regret of your subjects, it still lacks.” 

“ Ah ! ” exclaimed the emperor. “ You do not 
mean to say that Austria, bleeding from a thou- 
sand wounds that I have inflicted upon her, could 
make up her mind to put an end to her hatred by 
concluding an alliance of love with me ? ” 

“Sire,” said Champagny, “I do not believe 
that your majesty is hated by all the members of 
the imperial family of the Hapsburgs.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” asked Napoleon, cast- 
ing a quick glance on the smiling countenance of 
the minister. 

“ I suppose your majesty still remembers that, 
during the bombardment of Vienna last May, a 
flag of truce was sent with the request that no 
more bombshells be fired at the palace, because 
one of the archduchesses had remained there, 
having been prevented by sickness from leaving 
the capital with the imperial family ? ” 


222 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


“ I remember the incident,” said Napoleon. 
“ A few shells had already struck the palace, and 
I gave orders that it should be spared. One of 
the little daughters of the emperor, the Arch- 
duchess Maria Louisa, then a mere child, had been 
left there with her nurse.” 

“Sire, this child is seventeen years old, and, as 
everybody assures me, she is very beautiful, with 
light hair, blue eyes, and charming figure. She 
was deeply moved at the generosity manifested 
by your majesty; she is filled with admiration 
for the hero to whom indeed the whole world is 
doing homage, and before whose power the 
mightiest princes pass away : she is possessed of 
sufficient energy and courage to give utterance to 
her sentiments, even in presence of her father 
the emperor.” 

“ Indeed ! ” exclaimed Napoleon, joyfully. “ But 
who told you so, Champagny ? ” 

“ Sire, the Prince von Lichtenstein, during our 
confidential interview yesterday; and he added 
that the Emperor Prancis, notwithstanding the 
short time that has elapsed since the conclusion 
of the recent bloody war, and the many fresh 
humiliations he has had to undergo, seemed him- 
self to be an admirer of your majesty, for he lis- 
tened to the eulogy of the archduchess with smil- 
ing tranquillity.” 

“ That is strange,” said Napoleon, slowly pacing 
the room; “but the Austrian marriages were 
always pernicious to France.” 

“ Sire, it was, however, an Austrian princess. 
Queen Anne, who gave to France one of her 
greatest kings, Louis XIV.” 

“ That is true,” said Napoleon ; “ and I should 
be happy if my son resembled the great Louis.” 

“ Sire, he will resemble his great father,” said 
Champagny. 

“ A son — an heir to my throne,” said the em- 
peror, passionately — “ a legitimate inheritor of my 
glory, and a descendant of an ancient and im- 
perial house, who would dare doubt the purity of 
his blood, and his right to reign ? His throne I 
would have established; and he would confirm 
by the highest title the fourth dynasty of France. 
Champagny, I must have such a son, and — poor 
Josephine! ” 

He paced the apartment with rapid steps, and, 
halting in front of his minister, he said : “ I shall 
set out to-morrow ; this air is oppressive. I can 
hardly breathe it; and besides I have no longer 
any business here. You will remain for the pur- 
pose of exchanging the treaties of peace. Im- 
mediately after the arrival of the Austrian pleni- 
potentiary, bringing the copy of the treaty signed 
by the Emperor Francis, you will attend to the 


exchange of the ratifications, and inform me that 
it has been carried into effect. I shall go from 
here to Munich, and reach Fontainebleau in the 
course of a week. You may tell the Prince von 
Lichtenstein, in the same confidential manner in 
which he spoke to you of the archduchess, that I 
am now firmly determined to separate from the 
Empress Josephine; that a divorce from her had 
been irrevocably resolved upon, and that it wmuld 
be publicly proclaimed in the course of the pres- 
ent year. That is all that you wdll tell him for 
the present. Champagny, I am determined to 
make this sacrifice for the sake of France, how- 
ever painful it may be to my heart. The welfare 
of my country and the stability of my throne 
render it incumbent. After the divorce has taken 
place, I shall demand a final and categorical 
reply from Russia, and if Alexander is unable to 
give it — if his mother still refuse to place her 
daughter on the most powerful throne in the 
world — ^well, then, I shall break off the negotia- 
tions, and remember that the Archduchess Maria 
Louisa has some respect and sympathy for me. 
For the present we may be content with Austria, 
and I think the treaty of Vienna is a work of 
which we may w^ell be proud. The genius of 
France will give it a glorious place on the tablets 
of history ! ” 

Two days afterward the emperor’s travelling- 
carriage was in front of the palace gate of Schbn- 
brunn. Every thing • w^as in readiness for his 
departure, and he was about to leave his cabinet. 
He only wished to see Grand-Marshal Duroc, w^ho 
had just arrived from Vienna. 

The door^ opened, and Duroc entered. Napo- 
leon quickly met him. “ Well, Duroc,” he asked, 
“ did you see him ? Did he name his companions 
in this crime ? ” 

“ Sire, I have, and conversed with him,” said 
Duroc, gravely. “ He refuses - to confess any 
thing, and talks like a madman.” 

“ What does he say ? ” exclaimed Napoleon. 
“ Conceal nothing from me. This young man in- 
terests me. I desire to know all.” 

“ Sire, he afiSrms that your majesty is his only 
accomplice ; the misery brought by you on Ger- 
many, he contends, instigated him to attempt the 
deed, and you ought to blame none but yourself.” 

“ He does not repent, then ? He does not ask 
for mercy ? ” 

“ He regrets only that he did not succeed, and 
he asks merely the favor of being permitted to 
keep the portrait of his Anna, which he contem- 
plates continually ; and he implores her in touch- 
ing words to forgive him the grief he has brought 
upon her.” 


' AN EXECUTION. 


223 


“ What a strange mixture of ferocity and gen- 
tleness ! ” said the emperor, thoughtfully. “ Has 
he been closely watched during these two days ? ” 
“ Two gendarmes were locked up with him all 
the time, and they speak with astonishment of the 
unruffled tranquillity of the young man. For the 
most part he paces the cell with slow steps ; at 
times he kneels known and prays in silence. Not 
a word of despair has escaped his lips, not a tear 
dropped from his eyes. Yesterday, when his 
dinner was brought, he took the knife and looked 
at it musingly. One of the gendarmes intended 
to take it from him, but Staps handed it at once, 
and said, smilingly, ‘ Fear nothing, I will not 
hurt myself with it ; I will not waste my blood ; 
it is reserved for the altar of my country, and 
must be shed by my enemies.’ ” 

“ Did he take any food ? ” asked the emperor. 

“ No, sirej he has not eaten or drunk any 
thing these two days. He says he has done 
with life, and will have strength enough left to 
meet his death with a firm step.” 

“ He knows, then, that he is to be shot ? ” 

“ Yes, sire, he knows that the court-martial 
passed sentence of death upon him last night.” 

“ But I hope you told him, Duroc, that I had sent 
you to him, and that I wished to pardon him, as 
soon as he repents of his deeds, implores my for- 
* giveness, and takes an oath to give up his evil de- 
signs ? Did you tell him all that, Duroc ? ” 

“ I did, sire.” 

“And Avhat did he reply? Tell me every 
thing ! ” 

“ Sire, he replied, that if he could repent of the 
deed, he would not have attempted it ; that if he 
accepted pardon, all Germany would curse him, 
while he now descends into the grave, accompa- 
nied by the blessings and tears of his country ; 
in fine, that his death will arouse the Germans, 
and urge them to renewed efforts for liberty. ” 
The emperor made no reply. His whole frame 
shuddered, and if Corvisart had felt his pulse 
then, he would not have said that it was quite 
regular. The large drops of perspiration on the 
emperor’s brow might have alarmed the physi- 
cian. 

“ I am sure he is insane,” said Napoleon, after 
a pause. “ I want him to be looked upon as a 
lunatic. I hope that the whole affair will remain 
a secret, and that the world will hear nothing of 
it ; but if it should be talked about, we must in- 
sist that the man was insane.” 

Duroc bowed in silence. 

“ "When is Staps to be shot ? ” asked the em- 
peror, after a pause. 

“ Sire, this morning, at seven o’clock.” 


Napoleon glanced at the clock. “ It is half- 
past six, he said; “I will set out. Well, the 
Viennese will not hear the report of the muskets, 
for the cannon that is to announce to them the 
conclusion of peace will render inaudible the vol- 
ley at the execution. Come, Duroc ! I am tired 
of this fantastic Germany! Let us return to 
France ! ” 

Quickly crossing the room and approaching 
the door, he stood on the threshold and glanced 
again at the clock. “ It is a quarter to seven,” 
he said ; “ in fifteen minutes there will be one 
lunatic less in Germany I ” A few minutes after- 
ward a carriage rolled down the avenue of the 
palace of Schonbrunn. The emperor had de- 
parted. 

At the same time the room opened in which 
Staps had been confined for three days, under the 
close surveillance of two gendarmes. An officer 
entered ; eight soldiers, shouldering their mus- 
kets, drew up in front of the door. Frederick 
Staps met the officer with a serene smile. He 
still wore the short black velvet coat, fastened 
around his slender waist by a broad leather belt, 
his neck surrounded by a white collar, on which 
his long hair fell in dense masses. During the 
three days of his captivity he had not undressed, 
taken no food, and even abstained from sleep. 
His time was occupied in preparing for death, 
and in writing letters to his beloved Anna and 
his old father. These letters, folded and carefully 
directed, he placed in the belt which the fatal 
knife had adorned three days before. 

“ Sir,” said Staps, offering his hand to the offi- 
cer, “ I suppose you come for me ? ” 

“ It will soon be seven o’clock,” replied the 
officer, in a sad, compassionate tone. 

“ Oh, sir,” exclaimed Staps, “ do not pity me ! 
I shall die joyfully. But I have a favor to ask 
of you. I should like to send my last love-greet- 
ings to my father, and the young lady to whom I 
was engaged. Will you be kind enough to send 
my letters to them ? You hesitate ? Eeply to 
me, and consider that a dying man always should 
be told the truth.” 

“Well, sir,” replied the officer, “I am not 
permitted to forward these letters to them. Not 
a word is to be said about your fate ; it must re- 
main a secret.” 

“ Ah, the tyrant is afraid lest my destiny should 
become generally known. He wishes to hide it 
in obscurity ; but my name, and that for which I 
die, will not sink into oblivion. The day of free- 
dom will dawn yet on my native land, and my 
grave will be known and visited by my German 
brethren. You will not forward my letters ? ” 


/ 


224 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


“ I am not allowed to do so, sir.” 

“ Well, then I will forward them myself,” eX' 
claimed Staps, drawing the letters from his belt 
and tearing them into small pieces, which he 
threw away. “ Go ! my greetings and adieus ! ” 
he said ; “let the winds bear ye into the quiet 
parsonage of my old father, and the chamber of 
my faithful Anna ! Tell my countrymen of poor 
Frederick Staps, who wished to save Germany, 
and could only die for it ! — Now come, sir, let us 
go ! ” 

“You have no other wish ? ” asked the officer. 
“There is nothing that you desire, and that I 
could grant you ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, there is. I do not wish to be tied 
like a wild beast, but conducted to the place of 
execution with my arms free ; I do not wish to 
be blindfolded. I would like to see the soil and 
the sky of my country in the last moment ! ” 

“That wish will be granted. You shall be 
executed with your eyes open, and your arms un- 
fettered.” 

“Thank you,” said Staps, cordially grasping 
the officer’s hand. “ I suppose it is time for us 
to go ? ” 

“ Yes,” said the officer, mournfully, “ we must 
go ! ” 

“ I am ready,” responded Staps, and he walked 
with firm steps toward the door. 

The soldiers stepped aside, and then surrounded 
him and the officer. The procession moved slow- 
ly and silently through the long and gloomy cor- 
ridors. Emerging into the open air, they came 
to a square inside the bastions. High ramparts 
surrounded it on three sides ; on the fourth rose 
the rear wall of the barracks in which the con- 
demned had spent the three days of his imprison- 
ment. A few French soldiers were standing here 
and there at the open windows, gazing with in- 
different faces on the young stranger led to exe- 
cution, and of whose crime they knew nothing. 
He was conducted across the square to the oppo- 
site rampart, and placed in front of the newly-dug 
grave which was to receive his body. 


A detachment of French soldiers marched from 
the gate of the barracks and formed in line, just 
as the sun cast his first rays over the rampart, 
and shone upon the head of the pale youth. At 
this moment the earth seemed to tremble as be- 
neath a peal of thunder. 

“ What is that ? ” asked Staps of the officer 
who was standing by his side. 

“ It is the salute announcing that peace has 
been concluded.” 

“ Peace ! ” exclaimed the dying youth, joyfully. 
“ Oh, tell me the truth, sir, do not deceive me ? 
Has peace really been concluded ? ” 

“Yes, a treaty has been signed. The Emperor 
Napoleon leaves Schonbrunn this very day to re- 
turn to France. Three months hence there will 
not be a single French soldier to be seen in all 
Austria.” 

“Peace restored to Germany!” cried Staps, 
and, sinking on his knees, he raised his arms 
toward heaven ; joy beamed from his counte- 
nance, and his eyes filled with tears. “ I thank 
Thee, my God, I thank Thee 1 ” he exclaimed aloud. 
“ Thou allowest me to depart amid the booming 
of cannon proclaiming peace to Germany 1 I die 
happy 1 ” 

“ Attention ! Aim ! ” ordered the officer. 

The young man rose from his knees. “ Give 
me another minute,” he cried ; “let me sing my 
death-hymn ! ” 

The officer nodded assent. Staps, stretcliing 
his arms upward, sang in a joyous voice ; 

“ Tod du siisser fiir das Vaterland, 

Siisser als der Brautgruss, als das Lallen 
Anf dem Mutterschooss des ersten Kindes, 

Sei mlr willkommcn ! 

Was das Lied nicht loset, lost — ” 

“ Fire ! ” said the commanding officer, and 
twelve soldiers discharged their muskets. 

Frederick Staps immediately fell dead, and the 
blood streaming from his breast reddened his 
native soil. While Napoleon’s cannon was pro- 
claiming the conclusion of peace, this youthful 
martyr breathed his last sigh ! 


BOOK 


VII 


CHAPTER LIII. 

HOMEWARD BOUND. 

The 15th of December, 1809, was dawning. 
Queen Louisa had long looked for this day with 
a throbbing heart, and now that it had come, she 
felt embarrassed and anxious. It was the day 
when the royal family were to leave Konigsberg 
and return to Berlin, where the court was again 
to reside. Since the 3d of October the French 
troops and authorities had left the capital, and 
Berlin was once more a Prussian city, yearning 
for the return of its, king and queen. 

The carriages were at the door ; the princesses, 
wrapped in fur robes, were in the anteroom and 
awaited the queen, whose toilet had long since 
been finished. But Louisa had not yet left her 
sitting-room. The king made his appearance, 
ready to set out, and was somewhat surprised at 
not finding her with her daughters. 

“ The queen does not know, perhaps, that the 
carriages are at the door,” said the king. “ I 
will inform her that it is time for us to start.” He 
walked rapidly through the adjoining rooms and 
noiselessly opened the door of the queen’s sit- 
ting-room. 

Louisa, wrapped in her travelling-robe, sat on 
the sofa, her hands folded, her face bathed in 
tears, and her eyes uplifted with an imploring ex- 
pression. She did not immediately notice the 
king, who, as if in profound reverence, stood at 
the door. The queen was praying — ^how could 
he dare to disturb^her ! 

At last she lowered her eyes, and suddenly saw 
tliat her husband was present. “ Oh, my friend,” 
she exclaimed, rising hastily, “ my thoughts were 
with you, and on taking leave of these rooms 
where, owing to your love, I have enjoyed, these 
last years, so much calm and sacred happiness, I 
15 


prayed that God cause it to accompany us to our 
future residence.” 

“ But while praying you wept, Louisa ? ” asked 
the king. “ I hoped that the days of tears were 
past, and that my Louisa would become again as 
merry and light-hearted as she used to be. Do 
you not like to return to Berlin ? ” 

The queen looked down musingly. “ I cannot 
tell you,” she said, thoughtfully. “ When I think 
that I shall soon be in Berlin, and meet again 
the faithful people, my heart is joyful, and then 
again I shed many tears when I consider that, 
while I may find every thing there as formerly, 
there may in reality be sad changes, and I do not 
know how I may be affected. Dismal forebodings 
are troubling me ; I should like best to sit always 
alone, behind my little lamp, and indulge in my 
reflections. I am longing for Berlin, and yet I 
am almost afraid to go there.” 

“What are you afraid of?” asked the king, 
pressing his wife tenderly against his breast. 

“ I believe I am afraid of prosperity,” she said, 
with a gentle smile. “ I had become entirely re- 
signed, and forever bidden farewell to outward 
splendor, so that its return surprises and almost 
alarms me. Oh, my beloved friend, will it not 
destroy the humble, inward repose, which, during 
the time of privation, was our support, and the 
only source of our happiness ? ” 

“It is true,” said the king, smiling, “during 
these quiet years here at Konigsberg, I was so 
happy as to have my wife, the charming consoler 
of my afflictions, always at my side ; henceforth, 
the queen will often take my wife from me, and 
thousands of hearts which will welcome you so 
rapturously, will separate me often enough from 
my ideal. But I am not jealous, and the more 
my beautiful queen is honored, the greater will 
be my happiness. Come, my Louisa, let us go ! 
the carriages are in readiness, and the children 
are waiting for us ; but, before we leave this quiet 


QUEEN LOUISA. 


226 NAPOLEON AND 

room, accept again my thanks for tlie fidelity and 
kindness you have manifested toward me during 
my misfortunes. I am indebted to you for many 
alleviations of the sorrows which weighed me 
down. I am not a man of many words and can- 
not make fine phrases, but here in my soul I feel 
fervently that God has placed you at my side as 
an angel of consolation for the days of adversity, 
and of happiness for those of prosperity. Be- 
cause I love you, I gave your name to our young- 
est daughter, born here at Konigsberg. May she 
become a Louisa ! ” 

“ And may our sons inherit the noble spirit and 
the faithful and devout heart of their father ! ” 
exclaimed the queen, deeply moved. “ May they 
bear adversity like him, without despondency, and 
enjoy prosperity without haughtiness ! Oh, my 
friend, why will we say, then, that we are return- 
mg to Berlin poorer and less powerful than when 
we left the city three years ago ? No, we return 
richer and more powerful : for we left with five 
children, and we return with seven — seven hearts 
that love us, and belong to us. Do they not 
constitute wealth and power ? Come, my hus- 
band, let us hasten to our children ! and with what 
a mother’s pride shall I show our treasures to the 
good people of Berlin ! ” She smiled and drew 
the king along; her eyes, from which the tears 
had long since disappeared, were now radiant with 
love and joy — not a shade bf melancholy was to 
be seen in her countenance when she embraced 
her children. 

The journey to Berlin could be performed but 
slowly and in short stages. The snow-clad roads 
were almost impassable. Besides, every city and 
village through which the royal family journeyed, 
would have its share of congratulation. They 
were greeted with triumphal arches, and hymns 
and addresses of welcome. No one had escaped 
the miseries of war ; mourning mothers and wives, 
amid the ruins of a former prosperity, were every- 
where to be seen; but all this was forgotten 
during those happy hours when the people, de- 
livered at length from foreign oppression, rejoiced 
again in the presence of the sovereigns who had 
endured the same afflictions. The whole journey 
resembled a triumphal procession — everywhere 
enthusiastic receptions and love-offerings ! 

On the eighth day at noon they arrived at the 
village of Weissensce, a league from Berlin. The 
shouts of thousands of happy people reeeived 
tlrem. The whole population had gathered at the 
roadside in order to greet the returning king and 
his family, and at the entrance of the village were 
halting fifty young citizens of Berlin mounted on 
fine horses. They had been commissioned by the 


inhabitants of the capital to escort the carriage in 
which Louisa was to make her entry, and which 
the citizens desired to present to her. It was a 
splendid gift, richly decorated with silver, and lined 
with violet velvet, the favorite color of the queen. 
The eight magnificent horses attaehed to the caiv 
riage wore violet harness, adorned with silver 
rings and buckles. The queen entered it with 
her daughter Charlotte and her third son. Prince 
Charles ; the kii;g and the two oldest princes 
mounted on horseback. 

“ Now, Louisa,” said the king, riding up, “ we 
have nearly reached our destination. There are 
the spires of Berlin ; in half an hour we shall be 
there. But how pale you are, and your lips quiver ! 
Are you unwell ? Are you suffering ? ” 

“ No,” she said ; “ I live only in my hearty 
which is throbbing as though it were ready to 
burst. Oh, I believe that one may die of joy. 

But such a death must be very happy ! ” 

“ But you shall live in joy,” said the king, 
smiling. “Farewell now, Louisa; I must leave 
you. Aceording to the ceremonial, I must be ^ 
with the princes at the head of the procession. 

Au revoir at our house in Berlin ! ” 

“ Au revoh','’’ said the queen, leaning back on 
the cushions of the carriage. “ Charlotte,” she 
said to the princess sitting at her side, “ when we 
are near the gate, tell me. I want to be sur- 
prised, and, until I have reached the dear city, I 
will look at the sky, and remember that it is the 
same sky that was over us at Memel in the days 
of our deepest affliction.” She threw back her 
head. Her eyes, blue and pure as heaven itself, 
were looking up, and the bright firmament seemed 
to inspire 'her with devout and grateful thoughts. 
Prayers were in her heart, and the memories of 
other days mingled Avith her prayers. It was ex- 
aetly sixteen years sinee she made her entry into 
Berlin as a happy young bride. At that time, lifb 
w'as as the flowery spring, and she saw before 
her in her hopeful dreams only a wmrld of happi- 
ness, love, and glory. She was then a bridO) 
beautiful, loving, and beloved by her young hus- 
band, the inheritor of a kingdom. Now, at her 
second entry, she was sixteen years older, a ma- 
tron of thirty-four, and a mother of seven chil- 
dren. The storms of life had passed over her, de- 
stroying many of her hopes. Her heart had been 
shaken as well as the throne of her husband. The 
ills of common mortals had befallen the king and 
his consort, and it was not their innate dignity 
and majesty that had enabled them to bear up, but 
their warm human feeling ; it Avas not their self- 
reliance that had consoled them, but the faith 
that God, the Father of all, would be merciful to 


HOMEWARD BOUND. 


227 


them, if, conscious of their impotence, they recog- 
nized His providence and believed in His wisdom 
and goodness. 

The queen thought of all this, and compared 
the entry of the bride, rejoicing in the dreams of 
her young love and in the reality of worldly power, 
with the entry of the mother and queen, disap- 
pointed in her hopes and robbed of her dominion. 

“ And yet it is better to-day,” she murmured, 
“ I am richer now than I was then. My heart is 
richer, my soul is stronger, I — ” 

“ Mamma,” exclaimed the Princess Charlotte, 
“ I see already the Bernauer gate ! Oh, hear the 
Shouts, look at that triumphal arch ! ” 

The queen turned her eyes toward the city. 
The cheers of the people sounded in her ears like 
the early greetings of her happiness, and filled 
her soul with ecstasy. As the king, between his 
sons, rode into the gateway, the bells rang, and 
the cannon shook the ground. When the queen’s 
carriage entered, the soldiers formed in line on 
both sides of the street, and behind them surged 
a dense crowd of men and women. Nothing was 
to be seen but happy, smiling faces ; love was 
beaming from every eye, and with bells, cannon, 
waving hands, and the cheers of her citizens, Ber- 
lin greeted the return of her sovereigns. 

The king acknowledged these demonstrations 
with a grave, thoughtful face ; he saluted the peo- 
ple affectionately, but his countenance grew sad. 
He thought of the many faithful subjects whom 
he had lost, of the cities and provinces which had 
been taken from him, of the grievous and bloody 
sacrifices of the last years ; he remembered that 
he was returning to his ancestors, possessed only 
of the smaller portion of the inheritance which 
they had left him, and these reflections overshad- 
owed his joy. 

The queen only felt and thought of the happi- 
ness of her return. These thousands of hearts 
throbbing for her, this crowd of greeting men 
about her carriage to see her and shout words of 
welcome, filled her soul with profound emotion. 
She did not restrain her tears, and was not 
ashamed of this expression of her feelings. She 
wept, smiled, and rejoiced with her people. 

When the cheers reechoed through the street 
as she passed, the queen exclaimed aloud : “ What 
grateful music this is ! It sounds in my ears as 
eacred, and the city seems a vast cathedral! 
Charlotte, my beloved daughter, listen I but with 
a devout heart. There 'is hardly any thing more 
solemn and yet delightful to a princess than the 
cheers of her subjects. She who deserves them 
must return the people’s love, and sympathize in 
their joys and sufferings. My daughter, if you 


yourself should one day wear a crown, think of 
this hour, and let the affection of the people now 
occupy your heart. — But, my child, there is our 
house, the dear old house where you children were 
bom ! What persons are standing in front of it ? 
Who are they waving their handkerchiefs toward 
us ? The beloved sisters of your father, the Prin- 
cesses of Orange and Hesse! Who is that taU 
gentleman at their side? It is my father, my 
honored father ! ” The carriage drove up to the 
portal of the royal palace. “ Welcome ! ” cried 
the princesses. “ Welcome ! ” shouted the crowd, 
filling the large square in front. 

The queen did not utter a word ; but, stretch- 
ing out her arms toward her father, she greeted 
him with a smile, while the tears rolled over her 
cheeks. 

The duke pushed the footmen aside and opened 
himself the door of her carriage, when the queen, 
disregarding all etiquette, threw her arms round 
his neck, and kissed him. The people who wit- 
nessed this touching scene, became silent. With 
folded hands and tearful eyes they admired her 
who had ever been an affectionate and grateful 
daughter as well as a beneficent sovereign, and 
their prayers ascended to heaven for her wel- 
fare. Half carried in the arms of her father, 
Louisa entered the palace, and ascended the stair- 
case. The doors of the large reception-room were 
open. The king met her ; her two oldest sons 
stood behind him, and her two youngest children, 
held up by their nurses, stretched out their little 
arms toward her. She joyfully hastened into the 
room. “ Come, my children,” she exclaimed with 
a smile, “ come, my' seven radiant stars ! ” 

She took the two youngest children, Albert, not 
yet three years, and Louisa, one year old, in 
her arms; the five other children walking by 
her side, and thus, in the midst of these “ seven 
stars,” she approached her father. Bending her 
knee before him, she exclaimed : “ Grandfather ! 
here are your grandchildren ; here is your daugh- 
ter, who, with her children, asks for your blessing, 
and here is the most faithful and beloved man, 
my husband ! Oh, father, honor him, for he has 
preserved to your daughter her happiness ! ” 
She placed the two youngest ones at the feet of 
the duke, and took the king’s hand, which she 
pressed to her bosom. 

The king, who was afraid lest this excitement 
should become injurious to the feeble health of 
his wife, after saluting the duke and his own sis- 
ters in a cordiaP manner, proposed an inspection 
of the rooms of their so long deserted house. 

“Yes!” exclaimed Louisa, “let us show my 
beloved father the temple of our happiness ; and 


228 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


the good spirits around us no doubt welcome him 
and us. Come ! ” Walking between her father and 
her husband, and followed by the princesses and her 
oldest sons, the queen hastened through the suite 
of rooms, hallowed by the remembrances of other 
days, and which now seemed to her as beautiful 
as the halls of a fairy-palace. “ How tasteful, 
how brilliant ! ” exclaimed Louisa. “ Formerly, 
the magnificence of these rooms did not strike me 
at all ; but now I am able to perceive and appre- 
ciate it. Our houses at Memel and Konigsberg 
were much plainer, and I thought of the beauty of 
our residence at Berlin. — Ah, and there is my 
piano ! Oh, how often have I longed for it ! Will 
you grant me a favor, my king and husband ? ” 

“ The queen is in her own rooms ; she has to 
ask no favors here, but only to command,” said 
the king. 

“ You will then permit me to salute the good 
spirits of our house with music, and to sing a 
hymn of welcome to them ? ” asked the queen. 

The king smilingly nodded, and Louisa, hasten- 
ing to the piano, quickly took off her gloves, and 
sat down on a chair in front of the instrument. 
Her fingers swept over the keys in many brilliant 
cadences. Her face was cheerful, but gradually 
she became grave, and, turning her large eyes* 
toward heaven, her concords were slow and 
solemn. She thought of the past — of the day 
when, seized with forebodings, she sang here a 
hymn which she repeated at the peasant’s cottage 
during her flight to Konigsberg, when her pre- 
sentiments were fulfilled. Her hands played al- 
most spontaneously thilt simple and beautiful air, 
and again she sang with emotion : 

“ Who never ate his bread -with tears, 

Who never in the sorrowing hours 
Of night, lay sunk in gloomy fears, 

He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers ! ” * 


CHAPTER LIV. 

THE EMPEROR FRANCIS AND METTERNICH. 

The Emperor Francis was pacing his cabinet in 
evident uneasiness and excitement. Count Clem- 
ent Metternich, since Stadion’s withdrawal from 
the cabinet, prime minister and confidential ad- 
viser, was standing at the emperor’s desk, and 
^ whenever Francis, in walking up and down, turned 

* “ Wer nie sein Brot mit Thranen ass, 

Wer nie die kummervollen Hiichte 
Auf seinem Bette weinend sass, 

Der kennt Euch nicht, Ihr himmlischen Mdchtc ! ” 


his back to him, a scornful smile overspread his 
handsome countenance ; this manifestation of 
contempt disappeared, however, as soon as his 
master turned again toward him. 

“It will stir up a great deal of ill-feeling 
throughout Germany,” said the Emperor Francis, 
hastily. “ No one will believe that I, who was 
hitherto the most implacable enemy of Bonaparte, 
should have suddenly done him so much honor.” 

“ But at last every one will have to believe it, 
your majesty,” said Metternich, in his gentle, 
melodious voice. “ The facts will refute the sur- 
mises of the incredulous.” 

“But it is outrageous,” cried the emperor, 
“ and I can hardly think it possible that I am to 
assist Bonaparte in making a decent match, and 
that I am to stoop so low as to call the son of 
the Corsican lawyer my son-in-law ! Let me teU 
you, it will never do ; I should ever after be 
afraid of passing the church of the Capuchins; 
I should always imagine that the tombs of my 
ancestors opened, and their ghosts arose and 
asked me, ‘ How could you permit the imperial 
blood of the Hapsburgs to mingle with that of the 
little Corsican lawyer’s son, the insurgent- and rev- 
olutionary captain, who chances to be a success- 
ful warrior 5” Yes, and I ask myself the question, 
How can I permit an archduchess, my daughter, 
to be married to a man seated on a throne which 
does not belong to him, and which the Bourbons, 
the legitimate rulers of France, w'ill one day take 
from him ? How can I permit it, I ask, and how 
am I to bear it, if this fellow without a pedigree 
should some day take the liberty to call me his 
dear father-in-law ? How is it possible for me to 
expose myself to such risk ? ” 

“Will your majesty permit me to answer these 
just questions of your imperial conscience ? ” ask- 
ed Metternich. 

“Do so,” exclaimed Francis. “Explain the 
whole matter to me as though I were not the 
emperor, but a common citizen offended at the 
idea that the Emperor of Austria should permit 
his daughter to be married to the revolutionary 
leader who has the impudence to assume the im- 
perial title. What would you say ? How would 
you excuse me ? ” 

Metternich advanced a step toward the em- 
peror, and replied; “I would say the Emperor 
Francis has acted as a wise statesman and ruler, 
and as a father of hiS people. In order to pre- 
serve Austria from new v/ars, he has sacrificed 
his most precious treasure, his only child. It is a 
pledge securing peace to his exhausted people. 
Austria is not now able to resist Napoleon in 
case he should again attack her. Our fron- 


THE EMPEROR FRANCIS AND METTERNICH. 


229 


tiers are defenceless ; our finances are exhausted. 
Hitherto every war has caused us grievous losses 
in money, men, and territory ; and so long as we 
stand alone, so long as Russia persists in her ab- 
surd policy of being the cat’s-paw of France, it 
would be senseless and criminal again to endanger 
the existence of the monarchy. We have suffered 
such immense losses, that we must have peace to 
recover what we have lost. Hence we must be 
reconciled with France, and this reconciliation 
strengthens us against Russia. The very fact 
that Napoleon desires to conclude an alliance 
with Austria indicates a change in his political 
system, by which we should try to profit, and if 
(what is unavoidable) a rupture with Russia en- 
sues, Austria ought to derive as much benefit 
therefrom as possible, and enlarge her territories. 
W e ought to render our present position toward 
France as profitable as possible. The archduchess 
will be a precious guaranty to Napoleon, for he 
will feel convinced that the emperor will be un- 
willing to sacrifice his child, and this conviction 
will fill him with confidence and a feeling of se- 
curity. Austria becomes closely connected with 
the political interests of Napoleon, and shares the 
hatred which all Europe feels against the Em- 
peror of the French. But this very hatred in- 
curred by Austria will be regarded by Napoleon 
as another surety for his fidelity. He will ally him- 
self more closely with us, and become more hos- 
tile to Russia, the natural enemy of Austria; 
hence it is better for us to fight in company with 
.France against Russia than to allow Russia and 
France to fight against us. Moreover, our finances 
are in such a deplorable condition, that a bank- 
ruptcy of the state would be the inevitable con- 
sequence of another war ; not only the future of 
the emperor’s dynasty, but the fortunes of his 
subjects would be endangered. In consideration 
of this, the emperor, in his wisdom, has preferred 
to secure peace, the source of prosperity, to his 
beloved subjects, and, like the patriarch, he sacri- 
fices his own child willingly and joyously. The 
noble emperor ought to be blessed and praised for 
this, and his wisdom, which despises prejudice, 
and only weighs and respects the benefits to be 
secured by such a measure, should be gratefully 
acknowledged. That, sire,” said Metternicb, con- 
cluding his speech, “ is what I would reply to 
him who would dare in my presence censure the 
marriage of the archduchess to the Emperor Na- 
poleon.” 

“It sounds well enough,” said the emperor, 
thoughtfully, “ out it is still an unpalatable dish 
for me, and my tongue will cling to the roof of my 
mouth when I am to say, ‘ My son-in-law the Em- 


peror Napoleon ! ’ He is no real emperor, al- 
though he has placed three crowns on his head, 
and even had the impudence of dividing my order 
of the Golden Fleece, contrary to law, into three 
classes ; he can never become a real emperor ; he 
must always remain the son of a Corsican lawyer.” 

“ Whom the pope, however, has anointed and 
crowned emperor,” said Metternich, with a sneer. 

“Yes, and, in return, this ungrateful fellow has 
deprived the holy father of his throne, and im- 
prisoned him ! In short, I detest the usurper. It 
always deeply pained me to hear of Bonaparte 
and his new victories ; and since I saw him on 
that day after the battle of Austerlitz, he is more 
hateful to me than ever. Oh, how superciliously 
this fellow then looked at me ! He talked to me so 
haughtily that I felt quite miserable, and did not 
know what to say. I shall never forgive M. Bona- 
parte, and yet I am to allow him to become my 
son-in-law ! I tell you, Metternich, it will not do, 
for the end will be bad.” 

“But the commencement,” said Metternich, 
smiling, “ will be good for Austria, and that is the 
chief point. We shall take care that the end 
will not be bad for us either, and that Austria 
will not be the loser by it.” 

“ It is all right,” said Francis, nodding, “ but 
the mischief is, that when the unhappy time 
comes, M. Bonaparte will be my son-in-law, aud 
that it may be necessary for me to support him 
and his cause.” 

“Your majesty,” said Metternich, in a low 
voice, and glancing cautiously over the room, “ if 
you do not now hesitate to sacrifice your own 
child for the welfare of your country, at a later 
time you will not shrink from sacrificing your 
son-in-law. There are no relatives in politics ; 
Austria has no sisters and brothers, no daughters 
aud sons-in-law ; that is what the august uncle 
of your majesty, the Emperor Joseph, often said, 
and he was right.” 

“ Yes, indeed, my great uncle Joseph was right,” 
exclaimed the emperor, laughing ; “ there are 
no sons-in-law in politics ! Oh, it would do my 
heart good if I could revenge myself one day on 
M. Bonaparte for all the humiliations that I have 
to bear now.” 

“Your majesty,” said Metternich, in a lower 
voice than before, “ there is an excellent Italian 
proverb, ‘ Revenge must be eaten cold.’ Your 
majesty knows it ? ” 

“ Of course I do,” whispered the emperor. “ I|^ 
know it, and shall surely remember it. ‘ Revenge 
must be eaten cold ; ’ he who wants to eat it 
hot, will burn his tongue. Let us wait, there- 
fore.” 


230 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


“ Yes, let us wait,” whispered Metternicb. He 
then added in a loud voice : “ Your majesty, then, 
will graciously accept the proposals of the Em- 
peror Napoleon as to his union with the arcli- 
duchess, order the marriage contracts to be made 
out, and permit the Prince de Neufchatel, Mar- 
shal Berthier, to apply to your majesty and the 
archduchess for the hand of the imperial prin- 
cess 

“ Yes, I will,” said Francis, hesitatingly, “ but 
let me tell you, I am afraid of what the empress, 
my consort, will say about the matter, and also 
of, Maria Louisa herself. The empress never liked 
Bonaparte, and I do not know how I shall break 
the news to her, that the man for whose sake, but 
a few months since, so much Austrian blood was 
shed, and to whom I had to sacrifice the brave 
TjTolese, Andrew Hofer, is to become my son-in- 
law. And Maria Louisa will be greatly surprised ; 
I am afraid' she will weep a good deal on hearing 
the news.” 

“ I believe the archduchess will cheerfully sub- 
mit to her fate,” said Metternich. “ I heard her 
imperial highness speak in terms of intense admi- 
ration of the heroism and marvellous deeds of 
the Emperor Napoleon.” 

“ Yes, she did,” replied Francis, “ but I com- 
manded her not to give expression to such senti- 
ments. I explained to her how much misery and 
ignominy Bonaparte had brought upon Austria 
and our house, and what a cruel, tyrannical, and 
bloodthirsty man he is ; and my words made so 
deep an impression on the mind of my dutiful 
daughter, that she has detested Bonaparte ever 
since, and is afraid of him, as though he were a 
monster.” 

“ Perhaps, if your majesty were to tell the arch- 
duchess that the Emperor Napoleon is not so 
bad after all,” said Metternich, smiling — “ if you 
were to assure her imperial highness that he is 
a very great and admirable man, and that his lau- 
rels are as good as a long line of ancestors, the 
words of your majesty would not fail to impress 
themselves on her mind, and her hatred would 
disappear, particularly if you should show her a 
correct likeness of the emperor, for care has been 
hitherto taken to exhibit to the imperial princes 
and princesses only those representations of Na- 
poleon in which he is horribly caricatured. I 
know that the mistress of ceremonies of the arch- 
duchess, Countess Colloredo, in her passionate 
hatred against him, and against France generally, 
*tried this remedy to cure the imperial princess of 
her admiration for the conqueror, and the arch- 
duchess sees, hears, and reads nothing but what 
has been previously examined by the countess. 


I repeat, that if your majesty could have a really 
correct likeness of Napoleon brought to the young 
lady’s notice, her ideas of him would be somewhat 
changed.” 

“But I have no good likeness of Bonaparte,” 
said the emperor, somewhat embarrassed. 

“ Marshal Berthier brought one, which he is to 
present to the archduchess on solemnly applying 
for her hand. It is very costly and correct. The 
frame consists of twenty very large diamonds, 
for which one might buy a whole principahty. I 
requested the marshal to let me have it an hour, 
when he permitted me to see it during the visit I 
paid to him. I told him frankly I wished to take 
it to the emperor, who would show it to the arch- 
duchess, that she might have some notion of the 
real emperor, and receive his suit. The marshal 
granted my request, and intrusted the miniature 
to me.” 

“ Did you bring it with you ? ” 

“ I did, your majesty. Here it is.” Metternich 
drew a morocco case from his bosom and handed 
it to the emperor. 

Francis opened it hastily, and contemplated 
the precious locket a good while. “ These are 
splendid diamonds, indeed,” he said, and I am 
convinced Bonaparte did not inherit them of his 
father. Not the slightest blemish, not a single 
imperfection in them ; I believe I have no more 
beautiful diamonds in my crown ! ” 

“And the resemblance?” asked Metternich. 
“ Does not your majesty think that it is excel- 
lent ? ” 

“Yes, yes,” exclaimed Francis, laughing. “I 
had almost forgotten that, in admiring the pre- 
cious stones. Yes, it is a good likeness ; he looks 
precisely like that, but you must admit it is a re- 
volting face, looking as though there were but 
one man in the world, and he were that man.” 

“ But the expression of so much haughtiness 
impresses the ladies very favorably,” said Met- 
ternich. “ They like the man who loves to con- 
sider himself a god, and he is one in their eyes. 
I really believe it would be a good idea for your 
majesty to show this to the archduchess, and tell 
her afterward that it is the likeness of her future 
husband. If your majesty has no objection, I 
will, in the mean time, request an audience of the 
Empress Ludovica, and try to convince her ma- 
jesty of the necessity of this marriage.” 

“Do so,” exclaimed the emperor, joyously, “ it 
will be very agreeable to me, and as soon as pos^ 
siblc. In the mean time I will go to the arch- 
duchess, show her the miniature, and tell her 
plainly that it is that of her future husband. It 
is better to tell her so without circumlocution. 





THE ARCHDUCHESS MARU LOUISA. 


231 


The princess will not dare to oppose my wishes ; 
she knows that it is the duty of an obedient 
daughter to accept the husband her father bas 
selected for her. Go tp the empress, Metternich ; 
I shall go to the Archduchess Maria Louisa.” 


CHAPTER LV. 

THE ARCHDUCHESS MARIA LOUISA. 

The imperial princes and princesses had just 
dined together, as had been their custom since 
the reign of the Emperor Joseph, and were still 
in the large dining-hall, which was also the play- 
room of the imperial children. The Emperor 
Francis, who had recently married his fourth 
wife, had children by his second marriage only, 
but numerous enough to-secure the continued ex- 
istence of the dynasty, and, at the same time, 
furnish beautiful princesses to other sovereign 
houses. Of these five daughters and two sons, 
Maria Louisa, who was seventeen years old, was 
the eldest. But though a grown young lady, she 
liked to be together with her younger brothers 
and sisters, and remained sometimes with them 
after dinner, in order to participate in their merry 
play and conversation. On this occasion, instead 
of returning with the mistress of ceremonies to 
her room, she remained with her brothers and 
Sisters in the dining-hall. While the younger 
princes and princesses were engaged in playing 
round a large table, the two oldest, the arch- 
duchesses Maria Louisa and Leopoldine, retired 
into one of the bay-windows to converse without 
being disturbed. 

It was a charming sight — those two young 
ladies standing in the niche, surrounded by cur- 
tains as in a frame, and whose beauty seemed to 
have caught a celestial radiance from the light 
beaming through the windows. Both were in the 
morning of their age, but Maria Louisa, the older 
Sister, w'as even more attractive than Leopoldine. 
Thick ringlets of light-brown hair floated around 
her forehead. She had large azure eyes, telling 
of her happiness and the kindly emotions of her 
soul. Her finely-cut nose gave an aristocratic 
expression to her countenance, while her crimson 
lips, in their voluptuous fulness, contrasted not 
unfavorably with the remarkable refinement of 
the rest of her features. An enchanting smile 
played about her mouth, and spoke of her noble 
simplicity and innocence. 

She encircled the neck of her younger sister 
with her arms, and was gazing at her with a ten- 


der expression. “ Ah, Leopoldine,” she said to 
her in a sweet voice, “ how happy I am that we 
are at length together again ! When I remained 
here ill and alone, and the enemy was besieging 
our capital, I was always thinking of none but 
you, and yearned to be again with you. But 
when the shells struck our palace, I thanked 
Heaven that you were not here, and had not to 
undergo the fear and anguish which I was en- 
during. When this Bonaparte arrived, I was suf- 
fering of the scarlet fever, but the terror brought 
on an attack of intermittent fever. I shall never 
forgive him. But, thank God, these evil times 
are over ! Now we need not be afraid of being 
expelled again from the palace of our ancestors 
by this bad man, and of seeing our dear Schon- 
brunn degraded by the presence of his marshals. 
Now we can live happily and delightfully in un- 
disturbed tranquillity.” 

“ Yes, we can,” said the Archduchess Leopol- 
dine, smiling. “ But do you not think, sister, that 
our life is indescribably monotonous and tedious 
at the present time ? Our third mother, the Em- 
press Ludovica, is certainly a very amiable, vir- 
tuous, and pious lady, but she really believes us 
still to be small children, who ought to remain in 
the nursery, and it does not occur to her that 
amusements are sometimes necessary for young 
princesses of our age. We have passed the whole 
winter in an intolerably quiet and wearisome man- 
ner ; we are already in the latter part of February, 
and have not had a single ball at court. Ah, 
Louisa, it is, after all, not so very pleasant to be a' 
princess. Other girls of our age are at liberty to 
indulge in a little pleasure, to attend balls, con- 
certs, and parties, where they see new faces and 
interesting persons. We are forbidden all this. 
We must wait until diversion comes to us, and 
unfortunately we are not thought of at all ! We 
are never allowed to pay visits or accept invita- 
tions. A formal court ball, where we may appear 
for a few hours, and dance with the most aristo- 
cratic cavahers, is our only amusement, and at 
present we are deprived of that. We are guarded 
in our apartments like prisoners.” 

“Yes, it is true,” sighed Maria Louisa, “and 
we have a very rigorous jailer in the Countess of 
CoUoredo. Do you know, Leopoldine, that I have 
had a violent scene with the mistress of ceremo- 
nies to-day ? ” 

“ Ah, I am glad of it,” exclaimed Leopoldine, 
laughing. “ What was the matter ? ” 

“ I wanted to read, and requested the mistress 
of ceremonies to give me new books. She deferred 
it until to-day and brought me then one of the 
works I had asked for, ‘ the Maid of Orleans,’ by 


232 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


Schiller, but it was mutilated and disfigured like 
all books that are given to us. Whole pages had 
been cut out, and on those remaining were to be 
found black spots rendering whole lines and words 
illegible — a liberty which the mistress of ceremo- 
nies is in the habit of indulging in, in reference to 
all the books we read.” 

“ Yes, it is true,” sighed the younger arch- 
duchess, “we cannot read a single good book 
from beginning to end ; and we are thus deprived 
of much pleasure. What did you do, dear 
sister ? ” 

“I cast the book aside with horror, and re- 
quested her to let me have the latest newspapers. 
She brought them to me, but everywhere the 
same foul marks; not only all the news from 
France, but even the local Vienna items were al- 
most illegible to-day ; lines had been cut out, 
words erased, and half a column had entirely dis- 
appeared. I was almost beside myself at this 
treatment. I returned the papers and said, ‘ Ma- 
dame, this is doubtless a mistake. I am sure these 
papers were intended for the nursery, that the 
little archduchesses might learn to spell ; as for 
myself, I can both spell and read, and I request 
you, therefore, to give me legible books and 
newspapers.’ ” 

“ Oh,” exclaimed Leopoldine, merrily clapping 
her hands, “ that w'as glorious ! You acted like 
a heroine, my dear sister ! ” 

Maria Louisa smiled and added, “ ‘ Madame,’ I 
went on to say, ‘ I cannot bear any longer this sys- 
tem of surveillance. It is insulting and repugnant 
to me to be treated like a child, and considered 
so weakrainded as to be forbidden books which 
thousands of girls of my age are allowed to read. 
Or do you want to make me believe that all books 
and newspapers come to Austria in this mutilated 
condition ? Oh, I know full well that the people 
would not submit to such a system of tyranny, 
and that, in case such efforts should be made to 
deprive them of their mental food, assuredly a 
revolution would break out, as in France at the 
time when my unfortunate aunt, Marie Antoinette, 
was on the throne.’ ” 

“Did you say so? ” asked Leopoldine, in sur- 
prise. “ But where did you find the courage and 
the words ? ” 

“ I must avow to you that I had reflected about 
the matter for three days, and drawn up, and 
learned by heart, this little speech in order to ad- 
dress it to the mistress of ceremonies at the first 
opportunity. I am really tired of being treated 
so childishly, when I am a woman, and may ex- 
pect soon to be married.” 

“Ah, married!” sighed Leopoldine. “Who 


knows to what dreadful princes we may be mar- 
ried ? For, as a matter of course, we shall not be 
asked whether we like the match or not, and we 
shall not be as well off as the daughters of com- 
mon citizens, who, as my maid told me, marry 
only those whom they love. We princesses must 
marry men whom we have never seen, with whom 
we exchange the first word only after our mar- 
riage, and whom perhaps we may not like at all.” 

“No matter, our marriage makes us free,” ex- 
claimed Maria Louisa, impatiently. “We are 
then at least our own mistresses, and need sub- 
mit no longer to the restraints imposed on us. 
The example of our third mother, the Empress 
Ludovica, shows it. She has taken the liberty to 
pay no attention to etiquette, and holds a recep- 
tion at her rooms every night from eight to ten 
o’clock, when she does not admit the ladies and 
gentlemen of the court, but invited persons, among 
whom there are frequently those who do not even 
belong to the aristocracy.” 

“ She does not invite us to the evening parties,” 
exclaimed Leopoldine, sneeringly. “Maybe we 
are too aristocratic for her. But you are right, 
Louisa — as soon as we are married, we shall also 
have the right to change rules of etiquette and 
live as we please.” 

“ Do you know the first thing I am going to do 
after my marriage ? ” asked Maria Louisa, quickly. 
“ I shall buy all the books that I have now, and 
peruse the cut-out and illegible passages. I am 
sure they are the most interesting and beautiful in 
the books, and I believe they all treat of love. Ah, 
Leopoldine, I should like to read for once a work 
containing a very romantic love-story, and over 
which one might dream. But, good Heaven ! 
what makes the children shout so merrily ? Come, 
let us see what they are doing.” 

“ Come, let us play with them,” exclaimed Leo- 
poldine. 

The princesses stepped arm in arm from the bay 
window and hastened to the table. The little 
archduchesses and their brothers, it seemed, were 
engaged in a highly-interesting game, which their 
governesses were witnessing with smiling atten- 
tion. They were standing about the large round 
table, on which a small army of wax figures in 
green and blue uniforms had been placed in neatly- 
arranged rows. At the head of this army stood 
a somewhat larger figure of the most revolting 
appearance. It was a little fellow with hunched 
shoulders, a rotund stomach and an unnaturally 
large head. The face was of a black-and-green 
color, and had eyes of a ferocious expression, and a 
tremendous mouth without lips, showing rows of 
ugly yellow teeth. This figure was dressed in a 


THE AKCIIDUCHESS AND MARIA LOUISA. 


233 


green uniform, with broad white facings, and on 
his head was a little cocked hat. Opposite this 
army of wax figures a row of small brass cannon 
was placed, and at their side lay diminutive bows, 
and arrows furnished with pins. The ammuni- 
tion-wagons were filled with black peas. 

The game had just commenced. The imperial 
cliildren had opened the campaign against the hos- 
tile army of wax-figures. The little Archdukes 
Ferdinand and Francis Charles stood as gunners 
at the field-pieces, while the Archduchesses Caro- 
line, Clementine, and Amelia, were armed with 
small bows. The gunners fired at the ranks of 
the soldiers ; the archduchesses aimed at the ter- 
rible captain of the little army. Whenever an 
arrow hit him, or a cannon-ball struck down one of 
the soldiers, the children burst into loud cheers. 

“ What game is this ? ” asked Maria Louisa, 
contemplating with evident delight the blushing 
cheeks and bright eyes of her young brothers and 
sisters. 

“ That is the Bonaparte game,” exclaimed little 
Archduke Francis Charles. “ Papa emperor pre- 
sented the game to me when we were at Ofen, and 
taught me how to play it. It is a long while since 
we played it, but to-day we will try it again. 
Look, sister Louisa, that horrible fellow in front 
of the soldiers is the villain Bonaparte, who is 
Stealing the states of all the princes. He is made 
entirely of brass, and no arrow can injure him, but 
he has a vulnerable spot on the breast, where the 
heart is, that is made of wax. On shooting at 
him, you always have to aim there ; if you hit it, 
the arrow remains, and you win the game and 
obtain the reward. Oh, I am well versed in the 
Bonaparte game ; papa emperor was so gracious 
as to play it often with me at Ofen, when we were 
fleeing from that man ; and his majesty taught 
me also how to insult Bonaparte. See, sisters ! ” 
and he took the little bow from the hands of the 
Archduchess Marianne, and laid an arrow on the 
string. “ Now, you miserable fellow,” he shouted 
in an angry voice and with flashing eyes, “ now I 
will kill you without mercy ! You thief, you stole 
Venice and Milan from us — you must die ! ” He 
discharged the arrow, but it glanced off from the 
figure. 

“You missed him! you missed him!” shouted 
the little group. 

“ It is my turn now,” exclaimed the little arch- 
duchess, taking the bow from her brother. She 
put an arrow on it, and, contracting her eyebrows 
and making her laughing little face assume an 
angry and menacing air, shouted, “ Now trem- 
ble, you bad man ! for I will put you to death 
because you drove us ^wice from Vienna, and 


frightened us so badly that you compelled us to 
escape, while you were enjoying yourself in our 
fine palaces. Yes, I will kill you, because you 
shot our soldiers and took our cannon. You are 
a wretch, a miserable thief, and I will now shoot 
you that you may no longer murder our men and 
expel our princes, you robber and assassin ! ” 
She discharged her arrow, but with no better suc- 
cess than the little archduke, and the laughter of 
her brothers and sisters punished her for her lack 
of skill. 

“ Why, this is a very pretty game,” exclaimed 
the Archduchess Maria Louisa, laughing. “ Come, 
Leopoldine, let us try it, and see whether we are 
able to hit the monster.” The princesses sat down 
laughingly between the little archdukes, and each 
took one of the bows. 

“ Pray let me shoot first, dear sister,” exclaimed 
Leopoldine, eagerly. “Look, my aiTOw lies al- 
ready on the string. Now I will aim at you, 
miserable Bonaparte, and take revenge for all the 
sufferings you have brought upon us. Your last 
hour has come ; fold your hands and pray, if you 
can. But you cannot pray, for you have a con- 
science burdened with crimes ; you have sinned 
grievously against God by insulting and imprison- 
ing His’ representative on earth. The Holy Father 
has excommunicated you for this, and you are ac- 
cursed, delivered over to the tortures of hell, and 
every honest Christian turns away from the wretch 
against whom the bolt of excommunication has 
been hurled. You must die without confession 
and absolution — in the midst of your sins.” She 
discharged the arrow, but, like those of her little 
brother and sister, it glanced from the figure and 
dropped at its feet. 

The little archduchesses and princes, who, on 
hearing the imprecations uttered by their sister, 
had assumed a very grave air, felt as though they 
had been relieved of an oppressive burden, and 
burst into loud laughter. 

“ It is my turn now ! ” exclaimed Maria Louisa. 
She took the bow and fixed her blue eyes with an 
expression of profound contempt on the repul- 
sive figure. “ You must die — ay, die ! ” she said, 
gravely. “Bonaparte, I will deliver the world 
from you, for you are as insatiable as the Mino- 
taur, that required every day a human victim for 
breakfast. You devour men and countries, and 
the wails of whole nations are music to your ears. 
You must die, also, because you look so horrible ! 
God has marked you, and given you a monstrous 
body, because your soul is that of a monster. I 
will kill you, therefore, that you may no longer 
ft-ighten mankind ! ” She put the arrow on the 
string and shot. * 


234 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


\ 

A loud shout resounded. The arrow remained 
in the figure. Maria Louisa had hit Bonaparte. 

“Hurrah, the Archduchess Maria Louisa has 
killed Bonaparte ! ” cried the little ones. “ The 
monster is dead! The robber lives no more! 
The wretch and villain ! ” i 

“ Why, what is going on here ? Whom are 
you abusing so shockingly ? ” asked a voice be- 
hind them, and the children, turning around, saw 
their father, the Emperor Francis, who had en- 
tered unnoticed by them. 

“We are abusing the malicious robber, papa 
emperor,” exclaimed the Archduchess Marianne, 
pointing at the figure. 

“ Your majesty, dear papa emperor,” exclaimed 
little Francis Charles, eagerly — “ only think of it, 
Maria Louisa has hit the heart of Bonaparte. The 
monster is dead ; he is unable now to steal any 
thing more from us ! ” 

“ Sancta Maria ! ” cried the emperor, “ how can 
you use such language, ray son ? How can you 
utter such disrespectful epithets about the illus- 
trious Emperor Napoleon ? ” 

The boy looked at his father in dismay. “ Your 
majesty,” he said, timidly, “you yourself told me 
Napoleon could not be abused enough, and a 
genuine Hapsburg ought to execrate the infamous 
robber. Those were your majesty’s own words, 
papa ! ” 

“ Oh,^I was only joking,” exclaimed the em- 
peror, angrily, “ and a clever prince, like you, 
ought to have noticed it at once. But I am talk- 
ing in earnest now, and forbid you playing this 
stupid game any more, or uttering another word 
against the Emperor Napoleon. He is a very 
illustrious, and moreover an excellent man — a 
very great emperor — whom every one loves and 
praises.” 

“Papa emperor,” cried the Archduke Francis 
Charles, wonderingly, “ but your majesty told me 
at Ofen that every one was abhorring Bonaparte, 
and — ” 

“ You are a pert little fool ! ” replied the emperor, 
vehemently. “What I said then has no sense 
now. For at that time we were at war, and Na- 
poleon was our enemy. But now we have made 
peace, and he is our friend, and so dear a friend, 
that I would willingly intrust to him my most 
precious treasure ; I am sure he would honor and 
cherish it ! Listen to my orders, therefore, all of 
you : do not utter another word against the Em- 
peror Napoleon. We all love and admire him, 
and that stupid game must never be played again. 
It must be laid aside forever.” 

The children were frightened and downcast ; 
the emperor turned from them, and beckoned to 


the Archduchess Maria Louisa to follow him. “ 1 
came to see you at your rooms,” he said ; “ the 
mistress of ceremonies told me that I would find 
you here. I want to speak to you.” 

“Your majesty was very gracious to come to 
me instead of sending for me,” said the arcb- 
duchess, bowing to her father. “ Does your mar 
jesty command me to follow you to your cabinet ? ” 

“No, just step with me into this window- 
niche,” said the emperor; “ I will not detain you 
long. I wish to show you something.” He step- 
ped with the princess into the last window'-niche, 
and closed the curtain. “Now look,” he said, 
“ I want to show you a miniature, and you must 
tell me how you like it.” He opened the locket 
and presented it to the archduchess. She gazed 
at it long and musingly, and a blush suffused 
her cheeks. “Well ! what do you think of this 
man ? ” 

“ Your majesty, he must be a very great and 
distinguished man,” exclaimed the archduehesa. 
“ It is a countenance that makes my heart throb ; 
it is more than merely fine-looking, it is sublime ! 
How much majesty is enthroned on that brow, and 
yet the smile seems petulant and childlike ; but 
the eyes are magnificent.” 

“Look at him carefully,” said the emperor, 
“and do not restrain your feelings, but fall in love 
with him. For let me tell you a secret, Louisa ; it 
is the likeness of your future husband.” 

A deeper blush crimsoned the face of the arch- 
duchess, and half ashamed, half anxious, slie 
fixed her eyes again on the miniature. 

“ Yes,” added the emperor, in a graver tone, 
“ it is the portrait of your husband, and you will 
receive this very day his ambassador, w^ho will 
apply to you for your hand. He has already re- 
ceived my consent, and I am sure my daughter 
knows her duty, and will accept obediently the 
husband I have destined for her.” 

“ Yes,” whispered the archduchess, “ I know 
that to be my duty, and shall humbly submit 
to the will and commands of my emperor and 
father.” 

“ And it is a grand destiny that Providence offers 
you,” said the emperor, gravely. “You are to 
preserve peace to the world, my daughter ; you 
are to be the bond of reconciliation between those 
who have hitherto hated and waged war with each 
other.” 

“ Sire,” exclaimed the archduchess,” anxiously, 
“your majesty did not tell me whose likeness 
this is ? ” 

“ And whom I have determined to become your 
husband,” added the emperor. “ I will tell yon 
now, but be courageous and brave, my daughter, 


THE QUEEN’S BIETHDAY. 


235 


and remember that you must obey me uncondi- 
tionally.” 

“ I shall not forget to do so, your majesty.” 

“Well, then, did I not, on entering this room, 
hear the children rejoice at your having hit the 
heart of the Einperof Napoleon ? ” 

“ I was playing with the children, your ma- 
jesty, and — ” 

“ And your play is to become earnest now, 
and you are to take pains to conquer Bonaparte’s 
heart, that he may love and trust you. For, my 
daughter, this miniature, which you pronounced 
so fine-looking, is a correct likeness of the Em- 
peror Napoleon, who will become your husband.” 

The Archduchess Maria Louisa uttered a cry, 
and tottered to the wall. 

Her father clasped her in his arms, and placed 
her gently on the easy-chair standing in the niche. 
The cheeks of Maria Louisa had turned livid, her 
eyes were closed, and her arms hung down by her 
Side. 

“ It is strange how easily women faint ! ” mutter- 
ed the emperor. “ I found that to be the case with 
all my wives. When they do not know how to 
do any thing better, they faint. All four of mine 
did, but they always revived, and so will Louisa. 
I like it much better that she should faint than that 
she should weep. She knows now what she had to 
know, and will act accordingly.” He opened the 
curtain, and stepped back into the room. “ Leo- 
poldine!” he shouted to the archduchess, “step 
in here to your sister, Maria Louisa. She has 
swooned, but it is of no consequence ! Tell her 
to wake up, and conduct her to her room. She 
will tell you what has happened to her.” 


CHAPTER LYL 

THE queen’s birthday. 

There were great rejoicings in Berlin. It was 
the 10th of March, the queen’s birthday, and she 
celebrated it again at the capital for the first time 
in three years. Every one hastened to manifest his 
love and sjmpathy for the queen, and all classes 
had sent in requests for permission to choose com- 
mittees to present their congratulations to her ma- 
jesty. The queen had cheerfully granted these 
requests, and the deputations of the old aristoc- 
racy, the states, the clergy, the municipality, the 
academy, the painters, and other artists, the me- 
chanics, and citizens, were assembled in the large 
hall of the royal palace, waiting her arrival. 

The folding-doors at length opened, and the 


queen, preceded by the grand-marshal of the 
court, entered. She looked pale and exhausted, 
but received with affability and grace the cheers 
given by the assembly at her appearance, and 
walked slowly down the long line of the deputa- 
tions, addressing a kind wofd or casting a grate- 
ful glance to every one, and charming all by her 
beauty, gentleness, and majesty. Suddenly her 
countenance brightened, and she approached a 
tall, stout gentleman standing in the midst of the 
committee of the artists. “ M. Manager Iffland,” 
she said, “ let me bid you welcome. I expected 
to see you here to-day, in order to express once 
more my thanks for the joy you afforded me on 
my last birthday, and for the sufferings you under- 
went for my sake. But I should like to bear an 
account of the event from your own lips, and I 
ask of you, as a birthday present, to relate to me 
what happened to you last year on this day.” 

"While uttering these words, the queen stepped 
back into the middle of the hall, and thereby, 
compelled Iffland to leave the committee, and 
follow her. “ Your majesty is really too kind to 
remember so insignificant an occurrence,” said 
Iffland, bowing respectfully. “ I was on that day 
only so happy as to give expression to the feel- 
ings animating aU. ‘ Queen Louisa, our royal 
lady ! ’ that was the motto encouraging us to bear 
up under the foreign yoke ; it was our consolation 
when we thought of his majesty, our beloved king. 
However galling our chains might have been, we 
felt comfort. ‘ The royal lady is with him ! ’ we 
said to each other, and with grateful tears every 
one remembered his queen.” 

“ Yes, it is true,” exclaimed the queen with feel- 
ing, “ we met with much love and fidelity during 
the years of affliction, and to-day I thank from 
the bottom of my heart all those who were faith- 
ful to us.” Her eyes gazed long and affection- 
ately on the brilliant circle of those assembled, 
and she then turned again to Iffland. “Well, 
how was it on my birthday last year ? ” she 
asked. “ Tell me, but speak loudly, that every 
one may hear.” 

“ Last year on this day we were not as happy 
as we are to-day,” said Iffland. “ Our queen was 
not with us, and we could not let her read in 
our eyes the love and fidelity which we had been 
forbidden from manifesting toward her by word 
or deed. The French authorities had issued 
stringent orders everywhere, that the citizens 
should abstain from any allusions to or recollec- 
tions of our queen’s birthday, and that no demon- 
strations whatever should be made. We were 


* The celebrated German actor. 


236 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


obliged to submit to the petty tyranny, but our 
hearts were filled with anger, and the love which 
we could not assert was strengthened in its conceal- 
ment. It needed only a spark to bring about an 
explosion, and the theatre w'as so fortunate as to 
kindle this spark in the hearts of the loyal Prus- 
sians. On the evening of that 10th of March, a 
small family drama wdiich I had written was to be 
performed. It was the simple and affecting his- 
tory of a family celebrating happily the reunion 
of a mother and her children. The mother’s name 
was Louisa, and this name was sufficient to fill 
the house with a distinguished audience. All felt 
that the theatre was on that day the only place 
where the public heart, devoted to the queen, was 
allowed to throb for her ; where glances could be 
exchanged and understood, and where it was per- 
mitted to whisper, ‘ It is her birthday to-day ! 
Heaven bless her ! ’ Every seat was occupied in 
the galleries as w^ell as in the dress-circle, in the 
orchestra stalls as well as in the pit, everywhere 
reigned the same joyous commotion. Only in the 
boxes of the French, faces were seen that cast an 
angry and hostile expression on that audience. 
— The curtain rose, and the performance com- 
menced. The actor Lange and myself appeared 
in the first scene. Lange had to play the part of 
a friend of the house, happening to arrive there 
on that day. I represented the son of Louisa, 
the mother, and appeared on the stage w'ith a 
large bouquet on my breast. ‘ Why do you look 
so happy and well-dressed to-day ? ’ said Lange. 
‘ I suppose you are celebrating a family festival ? ’ 
‘Yes !’ I exclaimed in a loud and joyous voice, 
‘ we are celebrating a family festival, and it is a 
beautiful festival ; we are celebrating the return 
of our beloved mother, God bless her ! God bless 
the dear lady who is to receive these flowers ! ’ 
Carried away by my enthusiasm, I tore the bouquet 
from my breast, and held it out toward the au- 
dience. Moved by one and the same feeling of 
love and admiration, the whole assembly rose, and 
thousands of voices shouted, as it were with one 
mouth and from one heart, ‘ God bless her! God 
bless the dear lady — the adored mother I ’ Oh, 
queen, it was a sublime moment, and God counted 
the tears and understood the prayers that we 
addressed to Him. He has restored to us our 
queen, the beloved mother of her country and 
people ! ” 

The queen at first listened smilingly ; gradually, 
however, her countenance became grave. She 
was standing with profound emotion in front of 
Iffland, when he concluded his narrative, and tears 
dropped from her downcast eyes. Silence reigned 
in the vast hall, and aU faces were turned to the 


queen. She raised her eyes slowly, and directed 
them toward Iffland with an expression of in- 
describable kindness. “ I thank you,” said Louisa ; 
“ you stood faithfully by your queen at a time 
when many were deserting her. You have been 
a faithful knight of mine, and the king, therefore, 
wants you to retain always the title of knight. He 
permits me to give you to-day another decoration 
instead of the bouquet you wore on your breast a 
year ago. In the name of his majesty I have to 
present to you the insignia of the order of the Red 
Eagle.” 

A pallor overspread Iffland’s countenance, 
while he received the order which the queen 
handed to him. “0 queen,” he said, deeply 
affected, “ such an honor to me, the actor ! I 
thank your majesty in the name of all my col- 
leagues, from whom you have removed at this mo- 
ment the interdict excluding them from the hon- 
ors and dignities of other men.” 

The queen smiled. “It is true,” she said, “I 
believe you are the first actor who ever received 
an order in Prussia. And are you not indeed the 
first actor ? However, you owe us still the con- 
clusion of your narrative. You described to us 
the scene at the theatre, but not the disagreeable 
consequences of the occurrence.” 

“ All ! your majesty,” exclaimed Iffland, smil- 
ing, “ the consequences w'ere easy to bear after 
the sublime moment which I had witnessed. I 
was imprisoned for forty-eight hours at the French 
guard-house, where they put me on a diet of 
bread and water. That was all.” 

“ I thank you for suffering so cheerfully for 
me,” said the queen, dismissing Iffland with a 
pleasant nod. “Would I were able to rewmrd all 
those who have suffered for us, and endured per- 
secution in love and patience, and to return days 
of joy for days of sorrow ! ” 

Iffland, who looked proud and happy, stepped 
back among the members of his committee, and 
Louisa continued her walk, uttering words of 
gratitude and acknowledgment, and charming all 
by her. winning and withal queenly bearing. 

After the reception was over, she returned to 
her apartments. The smile disappeared from her 
lips, and her countenance assumed a melancholy 
expression. She motioned to her two ladies of 
honor to leave her, and remained alone with her 
confidante, Madame von Derg. “Oh, Caroline,” 
sighed the queen, “ I can bear it no longer. My 
heart succumbs under these tortures. They call 
this day a holiday, but to me it is a day of terror. 
To-night a party at the palace — a banquet pre- 
vious to it, — and I must be gay, though suffering 
severe pain! My heart is bleeding, and yet 


THE QUEEN’S BIRTHDAY. 


237 


I am to dance, address pleasant words to every 
one, and assume an appearance of happiness. I 
do not know whither to .escape with my grief ! To 
whom will Prussia belong a year hence ? With- 
er shall we all be scattered ? God have mercy on 
us ! ” 

“ Your majesty views the situation in too gloomy 
a light,” said Madame von Berg, consolingly. “ No 
further events have occurred that need alarm 
you.” 

“ No further events ! ” exclaimed the queen, 
vehemently. “You do not know, then, Caroline, 
that Count Krusemark arrived from Paris this 
morning ? ” 

“ No,” replied Madame von Berg, anxiously ; 
“ I do not know any thing about it. What is the 
meaning of this unexpected arrival of the ambas- 
sador ? ” 

“A new calamity is threatening us. Count 
Krusemark is the bearer of a letter from Napo- 
leon to the king. Oh, Caroline, what a letter it 
is ! One cannot help blushing with shame and 
anger on reading it, and yet it is necessary for us 
to be silent. Napoleon menaces because the war 
contributions are not promptly paid : he talks as 
a superior to his inferior who neglects his duty ; 
he scolds as a schoolmaster does his pupil who 
has not learned his task. And we must bear it, 
we must stoop so low as to beg him to be indul- 
gent ! Caroline, we must now solicit the forbear- 
ance of the man who has insulted us by every 
word he addressed to us, and by every look he 
cast upon us. For do you really know what he 
threatens to do ? He writes that if the king 
does not immediately pay up the arrears of the 
war contributions, he will send an army to Prussia, 
to collect the money, and punish the king for his 
breach of faith. He will send another army to 
Prussia ! — that is to say, the war is to begin 
anew, and, as we have become powerless, and can- 
not defend our frontiers,' he means to crush us. 
He will take every thing, and Prussia will cease to 
exist. And we cannot pay, we have no means to 
obtain those millions so unjustly claimed ! ” 

“ But the ministers will devise means to pay 
tlie contribution, dearest queen ; the minister of 
finance will be able to suggest a scheme to fulfil 
the engagements that have been entered into, and 
to discharge the claims which Napoleon has against 
us.” 

The queen laughed scornfully. “Baron von 
Altenstein, the minister of finance, is not of your 
opinion,” she said. “ The king asked him to 
suggest measures by which the liabilities we had 
incurred might be discharged. But Altenstein 
replied that he did not know of any, and he then 


proposed to the king to pay the debt by ceding 
the province of Silesia to Napoleon.” 

“ Dreadful ! ” exclaimed Madame von Berg, 
indignantly. “ A Prussian minister does no* 
shrink from advising the king, although we are 
at peace, to sacrifice the best province that ha ^ 
remained, and which even the defeats of Jena 
and Friedland, and the intriguing days of Tilsit 
did not endanger ! ” 

“ And if we do not consent to such a sacrifice 
(and we shall not), what next ? ” exclaimed the 
queen, despairingly. “ Napoleon will send his 
army and expel or imprison us, as he treated 
the unfortunate royal family of Spain. Oh, Car- 
oline, I shall be uneasy night and day. Dreadful 
apprehensions are constantly meeting me. I 
think of Spain, and fears oppress me lest my 
husband have the same fate as King Charles. 
Believe me, his life, his liberty is threatened, 
and he is every day in danger of being suddenly 
seized and taken away as a hostage, until we 
have fulfilled the behests of the tyrant, and 
given him all that still belongs to us — our honor, 
our crown, and, perhaps, our lives. We are 
surrounded by French spies: every word, every 
look, is watched ; only a pretext is sought to 
ruin us, and it will be found, as it was in Spain. 
Oh, he will take my husband from me 1 he will 
drag him as a prisoner from one place to another 
as he did the King of Spain ; he will sow the 
seeds of discord in our family as he did in that 
unhappy country. He, the tyrant Napoleon, 
brought about a quarrel between the Infante and 
his father ; he compelled, with his iron hand, the 
unfortunate King Charles to v/rite that his son’s 
guilt had raised a barrier between father and son. 
But whose hand was it that constructed it ? Can 
there be any doubt ? It was his alone ! Oh, will 
there be a time, and shall I live to see it, when 
the hand of God will at length write the ‘ Mene, 
mene, tekel,’ on his wall ? ” 

“ Your majesty will live to see that time,” ex- 
claimed Madame von Berg. “You will witness 
the judgment of Heaven and of the nations over- 
throwing the tyrant.” 

The queen shook her head. “ No,” she whis- 
pered, “ I shall not live to see it. I think this 
will be the last time that I celebrate my birth- 
day here.” * 

“ Oh, Louisa,” cried Madame von Berg, burst- 
ing into tears, “ do not utter such cruel, heart- 
rending words. You will live, you must live, for 
the consolation and joy of us all. It would be 
an injustice, and we should despair of divine 


* The queen’s o^vn words. 


238 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


equity, if our queen depart without having seen 
again the days of deliverance and happiness.” 

“ My dear, Providence permits such acts of 
injustice,” said Louisa, with a mournful smile. 
“Was it just that noble Palm should be shot, 
tliat Schill had to fall, and to be stigmatized as a 
deserter for his heroic actions ? Was it just that 
Andrew Hofer had to expiate his glorious strug- 
gle for freedom by bis death ? The Emperor of 
Austria was in the same position as we were. He 
had to sacrifice Andrew Hofer as we Ferdinand 
von Schill. The cruel hand of the tyrant rested 
on him as it did on us. And now they have shot 
the brave, heroic leader of the Tyrolese at Man- 
tua ! My soul mourns for him, for I hoped in 
him. It is but recently that I understood 
Schiller’s words, ‘ On the mountains there is free- 
dom ! ’ They resounded in my heart like a 
prophecy, when in my thought I looked over to 
the mountaineers who had risen at Hofer’s call. 
My heart fought at his side ! And what a man 
this dear, honest, simple Andrew Hofer was ! A 
peasant who had become a general, and what a 
general! His weapon — prayer! His ally — God! 
He fought with folded hands, with bended knees, 
and struck down the enemy as with a cherub’s 
sword. And the brave Tyrolese were fighting 
with him — children in the simplicity of their 
hearts, they fought like Titans, by hurling down 
rocks from the summits of their fastnesses. And 
yet it was all in vain ! They were sacrificed, and 
their leader was shot by the man who to-morrow 
marries the daughter of their emperor. And you 
doubt that Providence permits acts of injustice ? 
Oh, I do not doubt that God is just, but we mor- 
tals are often unable to comprehend his justice, 
because our life is too short to witness the result 
of that of which we have seen only the inception ; 
but He knows the end from the beginning. And 
an end will come for Napoleon with all his glory. 
But shall I or any of us ever live to witness 
it?” 

“ All of us will,” said Madame von Berg ; “ our 
belief in the final retribution of Divine justice will 
give us our strength, I hope, for many years.” 

“ I shall not live to see that blessed time,” said 
the queen, solemnly. “ This man, who is to be 
married to a German princess to-morrow, has 
wounded my heaii; so that it will at last destroy 
me. I do not speak figuratively, but mean what 
I say. There is something in my heart that 
leaves me no rest night and day. Its palpitations 
strike like a death-watch. There is something 
gnawing there incessantly ; at times I feel that it 
has nearly pierced my life, that death is surely 
near. And I am dying of the wretchedness and 


disgrace which he who is enthroned in France has 
brought upon Prussia ! I am dying, and he will 
win further triumphs ; the whole of Europe wdll 
lie prostrate at his feet, and his songs of victory 
wall be my dirge, leaving me no rest even in my 
grave. But hush, hush ! Let us say no more. 
I have allowed you to look into the depths of my 
soul. You, my friend, are the only one to whom 
I sometimes raise the veil covering my bleeding 
heart. But tell no one what you have seen ; keep 
my secret a little while longer, my dear Caroline;. 
— And how is your friend, excellent Baron von 
Stein ? You told me yesterday you had received 
letters from him. What does he write ? Where 
does he live ? ” 

“ He lives in Briinn ; his wife and children 
have joined him, and his life therefore is out- 
wardly at least less sad than formerly. He is in 
constant communication with the prominent 
statesmen of Germany ; all patriots hope in him, 
and receive advice and consolation from him. 
He is preparing quietly and secretly the great 
work of deliverance, which, when completed, will 
delight the eyes of my queen and receive her 
blessing. His eyes are constantly turned toward 
Prussia, and it is his profoundest sorrow that he 
is not permitted in these times to devote his ser- 
vices to the king.” 

“ Yes,” said the queen, sighing, “ it is the terri- 
ble misfortune of the king that, in times so 
calamitous as these, he is deprived of the assist- 
ance of the patriotic men who alone would be 
able to save him and the state. The tyrannous 
decrees of Napoleon have taken his noblest and 
best servants from him. Stein is in exile. Har- 
denberg has to keep aloof from us because the 
emperor so ordered it. We might have ministers 
competent to hold the helm of the ship of state 
and take her successfully into port, but we are 
not allowed to employ them. Our interests are 
consequently intrusted to weak and ill-disposed 
ministers, who will ruin them, and we shall per- 
ish, unless assistance come soon — very soon ! 
Stein and Hardenberg are exiled, and we have 
only Minister Altenstein, who is bold enough to 
propose the voluntary cession of Silesia to the 
king ! Oh, my beloved, unfortunate Prussia, 
where is there a prospect of safety for thee ? — 
Ah, the wmrm is again at my heart — oh, it 
oppresses me so that I can scarcely breathe 1 
Tell me, Caroline, what else has Baron von Stein 
written to you ? ” 

“ He describes the deep and painful impression 
which the marriage of the Archduchess Maria 
Louisa with the Emperor Napoleon has made 
throughout Austria, There was no rejoicing, for 


THE QUEEN’S BIRTHDAY. 


239 


all regarded it as another humiliation of Austria — 
as a chain by which she fastens herself to France, 
and makes herself a vassal of a powerful enemy. 
The Viennese particularly received the intelli- 
gence with profound indignation, and even sedi- 
tious gatherings took place, which had to be dis- 
persed by the troops. In their sorrow, the in- 
habitants of the Austrian capital consoled them- 
selves with a little wit ; for, on the day when the 
Viennese had to illuminate their city in honor of 
the betrothal, the populace, marching through the 
streets, reached the residence of the French am- 
bassador, and shouted in a loud and scornful 
tone: ‘Napoleon is now ruined! We have 
at last played him a trick 1 We have inoculated 
him with Austrian bad luck and Austrian stu- 
pidity 1 ’ ” ^ 

The queen laughed. “ That sounds very silly, 
and does not indicate much self-esteem, but 
there is a deep meaning in it after all. A connec- 
tion with Austria has always been disastrous to 
'France. Louis XVI. died of his marriage with 
Marie Antoinette, and Napoleon will not derive 
much benefit from his with the archduchess. He 
intends to strengthen his empire by this step, but 
it will alienate his own people from him. By 
this connection with an old dynasty he recedes 
from the people and from the liberal ideas of the 
revolution, which enabled him to ascend the 
throne. If this throne should ever be shaken, he 
would find that Austria will not support him.” 

“ Jt will be shaken and fall ! ” exclaimed Madame 
von Berg. “There is an ominous commotion 
everywhere. Spain is the first fruit of the new 
era about to dawn upon us. She has not yet 
oeen conquered, nor will she be, notwithstanding 
Napoleon’s high-sounding phrases and so-called 
victories. She is as a rock that will first break 
tlie waves of his haughty will. As a proof of 
tJie- hatred prevailing in Spain, Baron von Stein 
sent me a page from the catechism, which the 
priests are teaching the people at the present 
time, and he added to it a few passages from the 
new French catechism. Will your majesty per- 
mit me to read them ? ” 

“ Read,” exclaimed the queen ; “ pray, dear 
Caroline, let me hear them 1 ” 

Madame von Berg drew several papers from her 
pocket. “ Let us first be edified by the Spanish 
catechism, if it please your majesty,” and she 
read : 

“ Who are you, my_child ? ” 

“ A Spaniard, by the grace of God.” 

“ What does that mean ? ” 

♦ Hormayr, voL 1., p, 89, and other historians relate 
this occurrence. 


“ A man of honor.” 

“ Who is our 'enemy ? ” 

“ The Emperor of the French.” 

“ What is the Emperor of the French ? ” 

“ A villain, the source of all evil.” 

“ How many natures has he ? ” 

“ Two. A human and a diabolical nature.” 
“How many Emperors of the French are 
there ? ” ' 

“ One emperor in three.” 

“ What are their names ? ” 

“ Napoleon, Murat, and Manuel Godoy.” 

“ Which is the worst ? ” 

“ They are all equally bad.” 

“ Whence does Napoleon come ? ” 

“From sin.” 

“ Murat ? ” 

“ From Napoleon.” 

“ Godoy?” 

“ From both.” 

“ What are the French ? ” 

“ Christians who have become heretics.” 

“ What punishment deserves the Spaniard who 
neglects his duties ? ” 

“ The death and disgrace of a traitor.” 

“ Is it a sin to kill a Frenchman ? ” 

“No, a man gains heaven by killing one of 
the heretical dogs.” 

“ Horrible ! ” exclaimed the queen, shuddering. 
“ But that is their catechism, and these are the 
doctrines which • are actually taught the people, 
and which filled them with such desperate cour- 
age at Saragossa. And now, Caroline, let me 
hear something of the French catechism.” 

“ Here is a passage reading ; ‘ To honor and serve 
our Emperor Napoleon, is to honor and serve God 
Himself, for it is he whom the Lord has given to 
us, that he may restore the holy faith of our 
fathers and to rule over us with wisdom and firm- 
ness. He is the anointed of the Lord, owing to 
the consecration he has received at the hands of 
the pope, the head of the Holy Catholic Church. 
Those who would not fulfil their duties to the 
Emperor Napoleon would rebel against the will 
of God, and be doomed eternally.’ ” 

“ That is the fanaticism of a man who believes 
iu nothing but himself, and whom this self-deifi- 
cation nevertheless will one day hurl into the 
abyss,” exclaimed the queen. “But hark, it 
strikes twelve 1 The king will soon be here to 
take me to the palace. I will dress, for I must 
not keep him long waiting. Ah, there he is 
already ! ” Louisa rose quickly from the sofa 
and hastened toward the king, who entered the 
room. Madame von Berg withdrew quietly, and 
the king and the queen remained alone. 


240 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


The king took the hands whicTi the qneen ex- 
tended toward him, and pressed them tenderly to 
his lips. “ I come, perhaps, earlier than yon ex- 
pected,” he said, “ but I wished to see my beloved 
Louisa on this festive day, before she again be- 
comes the queen. It seems to me I have not yet 
seen you to-day. Since early morning the people 
offering congratulations and presents have per- 
fectly besieged the house.” 

“ That is the consequence of celebrating my 
birthday in Berlin, my friend,” exclaimed the 
queen laughing ; “ it is your just punishment for 
refusing to spend the day with me and the chil- 
dren quietly at our dear Parez, as we always 
used to do.” 

“ I could not do that,” said the king, gravely. 
“I had to give our subjects an opportunity to 
manifest their love for you and to indemnify them 
for the last three years, when they were unable to 
do so, But do you know, Louisa, why I come 
now ? I should like to present you two accepta- 
ble gilts.” 

“ More gifts ? ” exclaimed the queen, almost 
reproachfully. “ Your love has lavished so many 
costly and beautiful presents on me to-day that I 
hardly know what you may give me.” 

“ You need not be afraid, for the gifts are not 
very expensive ; they are only two pieces of paper. 
They will not make your casket heavier, but I 
hope they will render your heart lighter. Here is 
tlie first.” He drew a letter from his bosom and 
handed it to the queen. “ Read the address,” he 
said. 

The queen read : “ ‘ To his excellency. Count 
von Hardenberg, at present at the farm of Grohn- 
de.’ — What ? ” she asked, looking joyously at 
tlie king. “ My friend, you have yourself written 
to Hardenberg ? ” 

The king nodded. “ I myself,” he said. 

“ And what did you write to him ? ” 

“ I requested him to come to me without delay, 
if he feel strong enough, and resume his former 
position at the head of the government.” 

“ But you know Napoleon does not want Har- 
denberg to be your minister.” 

“ I am now again, and intend remaining, master 
in my own country.” 

“ Napoleon ordered that Hardenberg should 
not come within twenty leagues of the place where 
the king resides. Remember, dear friend, he is 
proscribed.” 

“ But I disregard this proscription, and call 
Hardenberg to my side. If he is courageous 
enough he will come, and when he is here we 
shall take pains to pacify the emperor’s wrath. 
He is at present too busily engaged in arranging 


his wedding festivities, and in preparing for the 
reception of his young wife ; he will not have time 
to notice that the little King of Prussia has chosen 
another minister. We shall try to manage the 
matter as prudently as possible, and prevail upon 
Napoleon to leave Hardenberg at the head of my 
cabinet. I cannot do any thing with a minister 
who proposes to me to sacrifice the province of 
Silesia, and to sell loyal subjects like cattle. I 
will dismiss Altenstein, and appoint Hardenberg 
in his place. I have called him. If he is a good 
patriot, he will come ; he must write a penitent 
letter to the emperor, that he may permit him to 
remain with us.” * 

“ Oh, he will come, my friend, and also write 
the letter,” exclaimed the queen. 

“ And do you approve my resolution to intrust 
Hardenberg with Altenstein’s department ? ” asked 
the king. 

“ Approve it ? My heart rejoices at it ! Now 
I have hopes again of Prussia ; now I look full of 
confidence into the future, for Hardenberg is a 
true German patriot, who has the honor and dig- 
nity of his country at heart, who does not want us 
to become mere vassals of France, and who will 
not propose to sacrifice provinces when we may 
discharge our liabilities with money. Oh, my 
dear, beloved friend, how grateful I am to you for 
this joyful surprise ! This paper is my most pre- 
cious birthday gift, and it really makes my heart 
glad.” 

“ But I have another paper which will afford 
you pleasure,” said the king, drawing it from 
his bosom. “Here, my dear, affectionate Prin- 
cess of Mecklenburg, here is my second gift ! ” 

He placed a folded paper into the hands of the 
queen. She opened it, and a joyous cry burst 
from her lips. “ ‘ Passenger ticket for Queen 
Louisa, good for a trip to Mecklenburg-Strelitz,’ ” 
she read, laughing. “ ‘ First travelling companion : 
Frederick William.’ I am to go to Mecklenburg,” 
cried the queen, joyously, “ and you will accom- 
pany me ? Oh, my beloved husband, you have 
divined, then, the most secret and ardent wish of 
my heart, and you grant it even before my lips 
have uttered it ! Oh, how shall I thank you, my 
own dear friend ? ” She encircled the king’s 

* Hardenberg complied immediately •with the king’s re- 
quest, and came to Potsdam, where be had a long inter- 
view with him, and declared his readiness to resume 
his position at the head of the administration. lie sub- 
mitted also to the galling necessity of conciliating Hapo- 
leon by an humble letter, in which he assured the em- 
.peror of his devotedness to France, and promised that the 
war-contributions should be promptly paid. Napoleon 
was favorably impressed with this letter, and ceased td 
object to Ilardenberg’s appointment. 


LOUISA’S DEATH. 


241 


neck with her arms^,with passionate tenderness, 
and pressed a long kiss on his lips. “ Dear, dear 
husband, how shall I thank you ? ” she whispered, 
once more with tearful eyes. 

The king looked at her long and lovingly. 
“ That you are with me is my greatest happiness. 
I was thinking to-day of a poem written by good 
old Claudius ; it expresses my own feelings. It is 
an echo of my heart’s gratitude ! ” 

“ iVhat poem is it ? ” asked the queen. 
Frederick William laid his hand on her head, 
raised his eyes toward heaven, and said aloud : 

“ Ich danke dir mein "Wohl, mein Gluck in diesem Leben, 
Ich war wohl klug, dass ich dich fand; 

Doch ich fand nicht, Gott hat dichmir gegeben, 

So segnet keines Menschen Hand 1 ” * 


CHAPTEE LYII. 

Louisa’s death. 

The happy and long-yearned-for day, the 25th 
of June, had dawned at last. The queen’s wish 
was to be fulfilled ; she was to set out for her 
old Mecklenburg home, for her paternal roof 
at Neustrelitz. The king intended to follow her 
thither in a few days, for he was detained in Ber- 
lin by state affairs ; they were then to go with 
her family to the ducal country-seat of Hohen- 
zieritz,- and thence to return to Berlin. 

How had the queen longed for this day ! how 
joyously had she awaited the moment when she was 
to see her old home again ! Even her separation 
from her beloved children, from her husband, did 
not shade her beautiful countenance. She was 
to miss her children but for a short time, and 
her husband was to join her at the earliest mo- 
ment ; she could therefore yield to the joy with 
which the prospect of seeing her father and his 
family, and of returning to her old home, filled 
her heart. 

Home ! The carriage rolled ffom the palace- 
gate of Charlottenburg, and the green fields as 
she passed had never seemed so beautiful. But 
her eyes were often turned to the sky, and 
she gazed on the white clouds floating over 


* On tbee my joy, my hopes rely I 
IIow wise to ■svin thee mine I 
But surely it was Heaven — not I, 
That made me ever thine. 

To thee, my loving spouse, I owe 
Whate’erof good may be, 

Nor could a human hand bestow 
This priceless gift on me. 

16 


it as swans on an azure lake. “ Precede me, 
clouds ! inform my father and my brothers' 
that I am coming ! ” she exclaimed, smiling^ 
“ Oh, why does not my soul unfold its wings, and 
carry me home through the air ? The horses are 
too slow ! ” 

And yet the horses were running along the 
turnpike, swiftly passing towns and villages, fields 
and meadows. The queen, in her impatience, 
counted the relays. We are already at Gransee; 
the next town will be on Mecklenburg soil. The 
frontier of my father’s state is between Gransee 
and Fiirstenberg. Forward ! home ! home ! ” 

“ Queen, here we are on the frontier ! Here is 
Mecklenburg ! ” exclaimed Madame von Berg. 

“ Mecklenburg ! ” said the queen, smiling. “ Hail 
my native country I ” And she kissed her hands 
to the landscape spread out before her in all its 
summer beauty. “ 1 greet and kiss thee, my 
Mecklenburg ! I return with a faithful heart ! ” 
Why did the queen start up so suddenly, and 
press her hands so anxiously against her heart ? 
“ Oh, Caroline,” she whispered, “ the death-worm, 
the death-worm ! Could it not be still at this 
moment? Could it not let me enjoy the bliss of 
this hour ? Oh, hovv it tortures my heart ! ” 

“ 0 queen, why such gloomy thoughts now ? 
Look at the sky, how bright it is ! — how mild and 
pleasant the air — the air of Mecklenburg ! ” 

“ The air of my native country is fanning my 
face, but the death-worm is at work in my heart. 
The gates of my home above will soon be thrown 
open for me ! But hush ! Why put this drop of 
wormwood into the cup of joy? I will not drink 
. it, I will not listen to my palpitating heart ! Let 
us see whether I am stimnger than my pain. I 
will laugh and be happy I ” 

And the queen, leaning forward with smiling 
countenance, said; “I greet thee, my Mecklen- 
burg, with thy waving wheat-fields and fragrant 
meadows, thy transparent lakes* and forest oaks, 
and, above all, thy ruddy sons and daughters ! 
Look, Caroline, what sunny waves are passing 
over those ripening fields, bringing to the farmer 
the fruits of his labor. Look at that pretty scene 
yonder ! At the door of the lonely cottage, in 
the middle of the rye-field, sits a peasant’s wife; 
her babe is resting on her breast, and three flax- 
en-haired children are playing at her feet. She 
does not see us ; she secs nothing but her children, 
and sings to them. Stop, that I may hear the 
song of the good young mother ! ” The carriage 
halted. The wind swept aeross the plain, and 
played with the white veil of the queen, who lis- 
tened with bated breath to tlie lullaby of the peas- 
ant’s wife: 


242 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


“ OL, schlop, ruihn lewes, luttes Kind, 

Ob, schlop un drohm recht schiin 1 
Denn alle Engel hi di siind 
Un Gott, de bet di sebn. 

Leev Gott bet alle Minscben gibrn, 

De Kinner docb ana leevsten, 

Driim wenn wi man wi Kinner wirn, 

Denn bar uns Gott ana leevsten 1 
Ob, schlop, mibn lewes, luttes Kind, 

Ob, schlop, und drbbm recht scbon ! ” * 

The queen laughed with delight. “ That is a 
Mecklenburg song,” she exclaimed, ‘iand yet 
how sweetly it sounds ; how gentle and winning, 
as though it were the language of the heart ! My 
native country has greeted me now with its most 
tender notes, with the song that the mother sings 
to her children ! Forward ! I am also a child 
of Mecklenburg, and long for my father’s kiss and 
the embrace of my dear old grandmother ! ” 

“ There are the spires of a town in Mecklen- 
burg ! the spires of Ftirstenberg ! ” 

The carriage rolled through the gloomy old gate, 
and halted in front of the palace. 

“ My father ! My beloved father ! ” 

“ My daughter ! My beloved Louisa ! Wel- 
come ! — a thousand times welcome ! ” They em- 
braced each other and wept with joy. He is no 
duke, she is no queen ; he is a father, and she is 
his child ! 

From the arms of her father she sank into those 
of her brother — her darling George, “ Oh, thanks, 
dear father and brother, thanks for this surprise ! 
Now I shall have two hours of happiness more 
than I hoped for, for I thought I would meet you 
only at Neustrelitz.” 

“Come now, my daughter, come; the horses 
are ready, and your old grandmother is longing 
for you.” 

“ Grandmamma, I am coming ! ” exclaimed the 
queen, and entered the carriage as merrily as a 
light-hearted child. Her father and'brother were 
at her side, and the ladies of the queen took seats 
in the duke’s coach. 

“Forward, home ! ” Her hands clasping those 
of her father and her brother, the queen rode 
across the meadows and waving fields. Was the 

* Ob sleep 1 my darling baby, sleep 1 
. And dream without a tear. 

For loving angels round tbee keep 
Tbeir watcb, and God is near I 
O baby mine. 

Sweet dreams bo tbine 1 

! If we as little children were, 

, The Lord would love us best ; 

Of such be said, with tender care, 

Is heaven’s eternal rest ! 

O baby mine. 

Sweet dreams bo tbine I 


death-worm still at her heart ? Which will tri- 
umph, that or the queen ? She did triumph for 
a season — for holy love conquers all, even death. 

The face of the queen beamed with happiness. 
Smiles played upon her lips ; greetings flashed 
from her eyes to the people standing at the road- 
side, and loudly cheering her. She reached her 
destination ! There is Neustrelitz, there is the 
palace ! At the gate stood the old grandmother 
who had charge of Louisa in her childhood, the 
old landgravine, now eighty years of age. She 
stretched out her arms toward the queen ; she 
called with tender words for her foster-child, her 
Louisa ! And Louisa rushed into the arms 
of her grandmother. They remained locked in 
a long embrace, weeping. The duke himself 
wiped tears from his eyes. Happiness also has 
tears, and sometimes sadness. 

“ Grandmother,” whispered the queen, “ I have 
wept a great deal in grief and anguish. Now I 
am weeping in delight, and my tears are praising 
God ! ” The queen was at home with her father, 
and under the roof of her ancestors. The storms 
of adversity had spent their fury. Gladness 
beamed from her face as she welcomed the 
friends and acquaintances of former times. 

' A brilliant party was given at court on the 
second day. A ball took place in the evening. 
Numerous guests were assembled in the festive 
halls; all were waiting for the arrival of the 
queen. Suddenly the folding-doors opened; she 
entered the ball-room leaning on her father’s arm, 
and greeted the assembled guests. How beautiful 
she was ! Her whole bearing had an indescribable 
mildness and majesty. She had adorned herself, 
for the first time since her adversity, as it became 
a queen. Her noble figure was wrapped in a 
white satin dress, and her bare arms and neck 
were magnificently adorned. 

“ Oh, queen, how charming you are to-day ! ” 
exclaimed one of her early friends, transported 
with admiration. .“And how splendid these 
pearls are ! ” 

“Yes! ’’said the queen, “they are. lvalue 
them very highly, and retained them when I was 
obliged to part with my other jewelry. Pearls 
are more suitable to me, for they denote tears, and 
I have shed many.” And as the queen uttered 
these words, she started and pressed her hand 
against her heart. Was the death-worm there 
again? Was it penetrating her heart? Was it, 
after all, stronger than the queen? No ! Louisa 
triumphed over it! Joy was in her face; merry 
words dropped from her lips, and she glided in 
the mazes of the dance. 

And this day was followed by another of still 


LOUISA’S DEATH. 


243 


greater happiness. The king came to see again 
his longed-for consort and take her back to her 
second home, his house, and heart. She was 
again united with her most faithful friend. She 
gazed with delight at his fine, manly countenance ; 
she was proud of his regal form, and his constant 
and earnest love transported her with gratitude. 
As she looked toward the king, who was leaving 
the room with the duke, in order to look at the 
old palace church, — “ Oh, George,” she said to 
the hereditary prince, who had remained with his 
sister in the duke’s sitting-room, “ now I am alto- 
gether happy ! I would like to repeat it to all of 
you ! ” And, as if these words were not suflScient, 
as if she ought to write them down — the queen 
hastened to her father’s desk. She took a scrap 
of paper and a pen, and wrote in a hasty hand : 
“ My dear father ! I am very happy to-day as 
your daughter, and as the wife of the best of hus- 
bands. Louisa.” “ So,” she exclaimed, “ I 
have written it down. My father will not find it 
to-day, for we shall immediately set out for Ho- 
henzieritz ; but when he returns the day after to- 
morrow, and steps to his desk, he will find this 
greeting from his Louisa, and it will gladden him, 
and—” 

“ Why do you start so suddenly, my sister ? 
Your lips are quivering, and you look so pale! 
Vvliat ails you, dear sister ? ” 

“ It is nothing, brother — it is nothing ! An in- 
significant passing pain in my heart ; it was sud- 
den, but it is nothing, it is over now. And if 
you love me, George, you will forget it. You will 
not mention it to any one, and, least of all, to my 
husband. They are already returning, our dear 
ones 1 Let us meet them ! ” 

They went, from Neustrelitz to Hohenzieritz, the 
charming country-seat of the duke on the shore of 
Lake Tollen. The carriages halted in front of the 
palace-gate ; Louisa, leaning on the king’s arm, 
entered ^suddenly a shudder shook her frame ; a 
mortal pallor covered her cheeks, and she clung 
convulsively to her husband. 

“ What ails you, Louisa ? Why do you look 
so ill, and tremble so violently ? What is the 
matter ? ” 

“ I am quite well, my beloved friend, but I am 
cold, and the air here seems close and oppressive 
to me ; and it is as silent and lonely as if death 
were dwelling here. Come, let us go into the 
garden. Come ! ” She hastened into the life 
and sunshine of the garden. The color came 
to her cheeks again, and her eyes assumed 

* These were the last words the queen ever wrote. 
The king preserved the scrap as a sacred relic, and carried 
it constantly in his memorandum-book. 


their serenity. She walked with her husband 
through the long, delightful avenues, and accom- 
panied him to the lake. It lay before them, 
beautiful Lake Tollen, shining like silver, and 
fringed wdth gigantic oaks. 

“ Oh, my dear Mecklenburg, my dear native 
country, how beautiful thou art ! ” exclaimed the 
queen, and an echo replied from the opposite 
shore, “ Beautiful thou art 1 ” 

“ The echo is right,” said the king. “ And, as 
I am gazing at you, you seem to me again the 
young princess wUom I saw seventeen years ago 
for the first time. Your return to your native 
country has made you once more a girl.” 

“ But the girl of seventeen years ago was not 
so happy as is the matron and mother of to-day,” 
said the queen. “ At that time I did not have 
you, my husband, nor my beloved children I I 
am younger in my heart to day than then, for 
love imparts and preserves youthfuiness.” 

“ God preserve you this youth, my Louisa, to 
the delight of myself and our children 1 But come, 
it is cool here by the lake, and you look pale 
again.” They returned to the palace, and the 
queen spent in the midst of her family a day of 
unalloyed pleasure. The last day ! 

When the next morning’s sun shone into the 
queen’s bedroom, Louisa attempted to raise her- 
self ; her head fell back heavily, and she pressed 
her hands convulsively against her bosom, ex- 
claiming : “ Oh, my heart 1 ” Poor queen 1 The 
death-worm was conquering 1 

“ It is nothing ! ” she whispered to her hus- 
band, when the struggle was over. “Nothing 
but a cold 1 ” she repeated, when the doctors, 
who had been called from Neustrelitz, came to 
her bedside. 

It. was a cold, but the queen was unable to leave 
her bed to accompany the king to Berlin, when, 
a few days afterward, pressing state affairs called 
him back to the capital. She was obliged to re- 
main a few days at Hohenzieritz, in order to rest 
and recover her strength. But the few days be- 
came weeks. She was still ill, and suffered as 
she had never suffered. Often, in the night, 
when her friend Caroline von Berg was sitting at 
her bedside, she beckoned to her and whispered 
in her ear : “ The conquering death-worm 1 Did 
I not tell you, Caroline, that it was attacking my 
heart ? Oh, I would the king, my beloved hus- 
band, were with me ! ” 

Couriers went to Charlottenburg to the king, 
and they came every day to Hohenzieritz and in- 
quired in his name for Louisa’s health. He him- 
self was unable to come ; he was also ill with fe- 
ver, confining him to his bed. 


244 


NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA. 


“ And I am not with him ! ” lamented the 
queen, “ I cannot nurse him, and smile away 
his cares ! I am myself an object of anxiety to 
him ! Oh, shall I not soon be well again ? Tell 
me, dear Doctor Heim, you whom the king has 
sent, shall I not soon be wxll, that I may nurse 
my husband ? ” 

“ Yes, your majesty, if it please God, you will 
soon be well. But now let me deliver to you a 
letter from the king, which his majesty has in- 
trusted to me.” 

Louisa’s eyes beamed wdth joy ; she opened 
the letter and read it. The words of tender love 
and ardent longing which the king addressed to 
her brought tears to her eyes. “ What a letter ! ” 
she exclaimed. “ How happy is she who receives 
such !” She kissed the paper and then laid it on 
her heart. “ It shall remain there, and will cure 
me better than all your medicine, doctor. If the 
spasms would only leave me, I should be well ! 
When they seize me, I cannot help thinking that 
my end is drawing nigh,” 

Doctor Heim made no reply; he turned and 
prescribed cooling beverages and anodjmes. No 
one but God was able to help her. Her spasms 
became frequent and violent, and she often cried 
— “Air! air! I am dying!” She yearned more 
and more for her husband and children. 

“ Doctor ! must I die, then ? Shall I be taken 
from the king and from my children ? ” The doc- 
tor made no reply. 

“ My God, I am young to die ! ” groaned the 
queen. “ Life has still to fulfil many promises to 
me ; I have shed many tears and suffered much ! 
Oh, there are these dreadful spasms again ! Doc- 
tor, help me ! Ah, nothing but death can help 
me ! ” 

It was in the night of the 18th of July that the 
queen uttered these complaints to her physicians. 
It was a stormy night, and the gigantic trees in the 
garden of Ilohenzieritz rustled weirdly and dark. 
The silence of the palace was broken only by low 
groans. 

It was dawning when a carriage rolled into the 
palace-yard. The duke hastened out. A pale man 
alighted and rushed toward him. “ How is she ? 
How is Louisa ? ” 

The duke was unable to make a reply. He 
took the king’s arm and conducted him into the 
palace. The two sons of the king, who had ar- 
rived with their father, followed them in silence 
and with bowed heads. The duke conducted the 
king into his room, wdiere he found the old land- 
gravine and the three physicians of the queen. 

Frederick William saluted the princess only with 
a silent nod ; he then turned his quivering face 


toward the physicians. “ How is the queen ? ” he 
asked. “ What hopes have you ? ” 

They made no reply, standing before him with 
gloomy faces and downcast eyes. The king’s fiice 
turned livid, and, pressing his hand upon his fore- 
head, covered with perspiration, he said, sternly 
and imperiously, “Keply to me, I want to know 
the truth ! How is the queen ? What hopes 
have you ? ” 

“No hopes whatever, your majesty,” said Dr. 
Heim, solemnly. “ It is an organic disease of the 
heart, and in such cases our skill is powerless. 
The queen has but a few hours to live ! ” 

The king staggered back to the wall. He neither 
spoke nor wept, so great was his sorrow. The 
venerable old landgravine went to him and laid 
her hand gently on his shoulder. “ Hope still, my 
son,” she said, solemnly, “ Louisa still lives, and 
so long as she lives there is hope. God in His 
mercy may yet preserve her to us ! ” 

The king shook his head despairingly. “ Ah,” 
he cried in a husky, sombre voice, “ if she were 
not mine, she would live. But as she is my wife, 
she wall surely die ! But I will see her, I must 
see her ! So long as she lives she belongs to me ! ” 
“I will go and inform the queen that the king 
has arrived,” said Heim, and hastened into the 
sick-room. 

A few minutes elapsed, and Louisa’s voice ex- 
claimed ; “ My Frederick ! my beloved husband, 
come to me ! ” 

The king rushed to her room, the door of which 
had just been opened by Dr. Heim. The queen 
lay on her couch, pale and beautiful as a broken 
lily. 

“My husband! my beloved friend!” she ex- 
claimed, raising herself and endeavoring to stretch 
out her arms toward the king, who stood at her 
bedside, but alas, she was unable to do so. “ Oh, 
wUispered Louisa, sadly, “ I am a queen, but can- 
not move my arms ! ” f 

The king bent over, and, pressing her against 
his breast, kissed her beloved face. Louisa 
smiled, laid her head on his shoulder and looked 
at him long and tenderly. “ You are here ! You 
are mine again ! But how are the children ? 
Have you eome alone ? ” 

“ No,” said the king, “ our two oldest sons ac- 
company me.” 

“ My sons ! Where are they ? ” exclaimed the 
queen. “ Let me see them, oh, pray let me see 
my sons ! ” 

Heim hastened out and returned v/ith the 
Princes Frederick and William. With eyes filled 
with tears, they stepped on tiptoe to the bedside 
of the queen. 


LOUISA’S DEATH. 


245 


“ My cMldren ! ” exclaimed Louisa, in a loud, 
powerful voice, and •ehe raised lierself up. Her 
maternal love gave her strength to extend her 
arms. 

“ Oh, my children, my beloved children ! ” She 
pressed them to her bosom, kissing them with the 
passionate tenderness of a mother. 

The two young princes, entirely overcome by 
grief, sank on their knees at the bedside of 
their mother. She laid her hands on their heads, 
as if to bless them, and lifted her eyes to the 
king, who, pale and silent, was gazing at her in 
unutterable despair. 

“ Now I am happy,” breathed the queen. “ You 
are with me, and my beloved sons ! ” 

The king’s sorrow was overpowering him, and 
he quickly turned and left the room. Heim ap- 
proached the princes and begged them in a low 
voice to withdraw, because the queen was unable 
to bear so much excitement. They rose from 
their knees and kissed their mother’s hands. 
Louisa was so faint that she could greet her chil- 
dren only with a smile, and was unable to bear 
their presence longer. But her eyes followed 
them steadfastly until they had withdrawn. 

She lay long silent and motionless, and then 
whispered to her sister, the Princess of Solms : 
“ The king acted as though he wished to take 
leave of me. Tell him not to do so, else I shall 
die immediately. But where is he ? Where is 
my husband ? Oh, why is he not with me ? ” 

Frederick William stood in a corner of the 
anteroom, his head leaning against the wall, his 
hands pressed against his breast, in order to sup- 
press the sobs which escaped from it in spite of 
him. His eyes were tearless ; his quivering lips 
were murmuring : “ My wife is dying ! She is 
dying ! ” 


“Louisa wishes to see you,” whispered the 
Princess of Solms, approaching him. “ But, pray 
be gentle; do not manifest your grief; Louisa 
says that else she would die immediately.” 

“No,” said the king, sternly, “she shall not 
die. I will endeavor to be calm ! ” And, restrain- 
ing his grief, he stepped to the queen’s bedside. 
“ I just had a conference with the physicians,” he 
said, almost smilingly. “ They make me hope for 
the best. Indeed, I never believed that you were 
in danger ; I was only deeply moved because I 
saw you suffering so intensely.” 

The queen looked him full in the face, and 
made no reply. The king sat down on her bed 
and took her right hand. Louisa pressed his 
hand gently, and fixed her eyes with a thoughtful 
and grave expression on his countenance. Sud- 
denly a dark shadow passed over her face. “ It 
is coming ! It is coming ! ” she cried in a tone 
of heart-rending anguish, and started up in ex- 
cruciating pain. 

The king went to the door and called the phy- 
sicians, who hastened into the room, followed by 
the duke, the princes, and the whole family. Ma- 
dame von Berg raised the groaning sufferer. The 
physicians were standing in the middle of the 
room. “We cannot help her. It is the'last con- 
vulsion ! ” 

“ Air ! air ! ” cried the queen. 

Frederick William bent over her with tearless 
eyes. The agony she was suffering paralyzed his 
heart. 

“ Lord, end my sufferings ! ” cried the queen, 
with a last effort, and her head sank back into the 
arms of Madame von Berg. Another sigh — a 
long, tremulous sigh. The clock struck nine. A 
solemn silence reigned in the palace. The queen 
was dead ! 


THE END. 


/ 





D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 


FREDERICK THE GREAT 

AND HIS COHRT. 

AN HISTOEICAL ROMANCE. 

By Hi, 

TEANSLATED PROM THE GERMAN BY 

MRS. CHAPMAN COLEMAN AND HER DAHGHTERS. 

1 vol., 12mo. 434 pages. Cloth, $2.00. 

Sent free hy mail on receipt of the price. 


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‘‘This is a very singular and interesting production. No one 
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in grasping and delineating the characters which figure conspicu- 
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senting the earlier pursuits, habits, temperament, and political 
reticence of one of the most remarkable rulers of modern times. 
The portraitures are sketched with great vivacity, and with a life- 
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Yorher, 

“ The above work, although published as fiction, is full of his- 
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writers, and the stirring scenes and amusing anecdotes with which 
the book abounds are true to the very life, the king’s own words 
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They are fact and fiction combined.”— Utica Journal. 


Z». APPLETON & C0:s PUBLICATIONS. 


JOSEPH II. AUD HIS COUET. 

AN EISTOBIGAL NOVEL. 

BY LOUISA MUHLBACH, 

Author of “rrederick the Great and His Court,” ‘‘Berlin and Sans-Souci,’' 
“ Merchant of Berlin,” &c., &c. 

TEANSLATED FEOM THE GEEMAN’, 

By ADELAIDE De V. CHAUDROlSr. 

1 vol., 8vo. With. Illustrations. Paper Cover, $1.50 ; Cloth, $2.00. 


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have been carefully studied from the detailed chronicles of the time.” — PMlor 
delpMa Inquirer. 

“ The series of Historical Hovels by Miss Muhlbach are winning for their 
author a high distinction among a class of writers, of which Sir Walter Scott 
has stood at the head. The events of history which are interwoven in the 
romances she has written, are not distorted and falsified for the purpose of 
making a sensation, but are presented with a truthfulness which gives a solid 
value to the series. The volume before us is literally one of thrilling inter- 
est.” — Fulton County Eepullican, 

“We regard these books as among the best and most entertaining novels 
of the day.” — Springfield Eepullican. 

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that the reader never tires or notices with regret its unusual length.” — 
Georgetown Courier. 

“ This is an historical novel of intense and thriUing power. The reader 
is at once fascinated and held spell-bound until the volume is completed. 
Miss Miihlbach’s novels have risen into favor very rapidly, and this fact 
alone gives a good indication of their real merit. The book is not of the 
false sensational kind, but the interest of the reader is chained from the first 
chapter.” — Galeshurg Free Press. 


i>. APPLETON & CO:S PUBLICATIONS. 


THE 



AN JETISTOmCAL NOVEL. 

BY JLiOXIIS^ 

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN, BY 

NATHANIEL GREENE. 



1 volume, 8vo. Illustrated. Paper cover, $1.60 ; cloth, $2.00. 


From the Chicago Christian Times. 

“ Miss Miihlbach has not merely romanced ; she adheres rigidly to her text, gained 
from a great variety of sources, state records, native and foreign historians. The 
climax of her most brilliant scenes is a fact which she refers to its recorder ; the 
startling prophecy, the pungent witticism, she takes word for word from its author.” 

From the Worcester Spy. 

“ Louisa Miihlbach must have carefully and diligently studied the secret histo- 
ries of the times and countries of which she writes, and her task is done well and 
effectively ; her novels, apart from their historical value, are admirable as ro- 
mances, and fully deserve praise and popularity.” 

From the Portland Press. 

“ Not for a long time has there been published in this country any series of ro- 
mances so widely popular. This volume illustrates Russian history in the time of 
the great Catharine, and with equal success as that which has attended her in her 
previous efforts.” 

From the Memphis Appeal. 

“ It possesses the same charm of narration and startling episode which character- 
ize all the works of Miss Miihlbach, and will be eagerly sought after by every one 
who has read her preceding works. 


D, APPLETON & CO:S PUBLICATIONS. 


MARIE ANTOINETTE 
AND HER SON. 

AN mSTOBICAL NOVEL. 

DB'Y LOXJIS-A. 3VCXJI3:iL.B-A.Oia:- 
Trasislatecl Iby Eficv. W. JL. G-AGE, 

1 volume, 8vo. Containing eight Illustrations. Paper cover, $1.60; cloth, $2.00. 


From the Evening Telegraph. 

“ The publishers deserve the heartiest thanks of the reading public for 
reproducing in America, so promptly and so admirably, tlie illustrated His- 
torical Eomances of L. Miihlbach, which are unquestionably the most com- 
plete and meritorious works of the kind wdiich have been written since the 
days of Sir "Walter Scott, and which cannot be too widely read.” 

From the Indianapolis State Journal. 

“ The romantic career of the beautiful and unfortunate daugliter of Maria 
Theresa, the famous plot of the Diamond Necklace, and the Eeign of Terror, 
are depicted with great power, and worked up into a novel, making a very 
enchanting love-story.” 

From the Norfolk County Journal. , . 

“ The era chosen for the scene of this novel is one of the most exciting 
in history. It is one of this author’s most successful attempts at combining 
history and romance for general reading.” 

From the Springfield Repiiblican. 

“ As in all the works of the author, the story of itself is interesting 
enough to retain the attention and interest of any novel-reader, while his- 
torical accuracy or verisimilitude is carefully preserved.” 


B. APPLETON & CO.’S PUBLICATIONS. 


Continuation of Frederick the Great and His Court 


BERLIN AND SANS-SOECI • 

OE, 

FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FRIENDS. 

AN BISTOmCAL NOVEL. 

BY 

Author of “Joseph II. and His Court,” “Frederick the Great 
and His Court,” “Merchant of Berlin,” &c. 

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY 

MES. CHAPMAN COLEMAN AND HER DAUGHTERS. 

1 vol., 12nio. Cloth. Price, $2.00. 


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Bntain— fix the sentiment of the people upon a truthful past .” — The 
National Freemason. 

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ble .” — Christian Times. 

“ To any person who has read a single one of these pictorial and dra- 
matic romances, the name of the author will assert the vivid interest of the 
book. They are more than entertaining ; they are valuable as careful studies 
of history, minutely and appreciatively drawn .” — Chicago Eepublican. 

“ It is almost exclusively confined to court incidents and anecdotes, in- 
cluding the romantic adventures of Baron Trenck, who, from a favorite to 
the royal sister of Frederick the Great, became a wanderer, a radical, and 
finally a victim on the scaffold of the French Kepublic.” 


B. APPLETON S CO:S PUBLICATIONS. 


THE MEKCHANT OF BERLIN. 

AN HISTORICAL NOVEL. 

By L. MUHLBACH, 

Author of ‘^Joseph II. and His Court,” ‘‘Frederick the Great and 
His Court,” “Berlin and Sans-Souci,” &c., &c. 

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN, 

By AMORY COFFIN, M. D. 

1 vol., 12in.o, Cloth, $2.00. 


“ There is not a dull chapter in it. The interest of the reader is ■well 
maintained from the beginning to the close, and we know of no hook of 
similar character which would while away an afternoon more pleasantly.” — 
Utica Herald. 

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interest, from the opening chapter to the close, was more thoroughly sus- 
tained.” — Jersey City Daily Times. 

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previously had fallen in our way. They are meritorious productions, but 
this excels them in interest of matter as well as in vivacity of style.” — 
Boston Traveller. 

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novel histories by Mhhlbach, and one of the most readable books of the 
season.” — Baltimore Gazette. 

“Tlie story is exceedingly interesting and possesses points which will 
render it highly popular among all classes. AVe look forward with genuine 
pleasure to the publication of more volumes by the same author, being con- 
vinced that they will undoubtedly become the most popular of historical 
novels.” — Georgetown Courier. 




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